Neighbors
by Kifujin Kitade
Summary: AU drama Xanxus x Squalo. How it is to be in a relationship with a spoiled bastard.
1. Why my neighbor is a bastard

Yeaaah (≧∇≦)/ A new XS story! i've always wanted to write this one. I got the idea last year from one of my from friends in college (ok not actually EVERYTHING, but at least the part with the window). As i said earlier, it will be my last fanfiction of this year m(_ _)m and i'm not planning on writing anything else next year.

But put sad things aside.

For once i wanted to use AAAALL the knowledge i earned with all those years of reading yaoi and use it in a fanfiction, so i hope you'll like it!

* * *

Namimori University was a simple and very ordinary university, like any other. Courses would always start quietly in the morning and end up the evening in a happy and cheerful hubbub. In general, students' everyday life was fairly quiet compared to their Tokyo compeers. After all, Namimori was a way smaller town, far from the jam-packed streets, the never ending honking, the skyscrapers and the stress of big cities… Indeed, it was nearly a heaven for the ears and the eyes, just like a Zen garden that would remain forever intact, adorned every year by a sea of trees…

But that day, noon came and all together with a deafening anCHAd scary battle cry from one of the university's amphitheaters.

"Vooooi, did I say you could leave yet? Listen when I'm talking to you, damn brats!"

The order was immediately followed by all the students coming back to their sit as fast as if they hadn't left them yet. The kids were in their first year and it was actually their very first course in Namimori U, so it was still new for them. Their seniors, though, would have never made the same mistake: getting out before professor Superbi give you his gracious permission? That was absolutely unthinkable.

Superbi Squalo was known to be the scariest, the evilest, and yet the most gorgeous professor in the college, so gorgeous some female (and male) students even deliberately chose his program only in order to see his six-foot slender body, his deep and grave greyish orbs, just like moonstones, inlayed within delicate features that would never give away his 32 years old, and, most of all, the long and stunning waist-length silvery hair waving and shining graciously at each one of his steps… In point of fact, those were the only pleasant fact about him.

First thing he said (or rather yelled) at the beginning of the course had been, 'Voi, so you're the lousy trashes given to me this year. You'd all better graduate fast. I already can't stand your trashy faces.'

At first, the students took it as a joke. Of course, they were wrong, and it didn't take the entire course to understand how much. Squalo wasn't only fond of trash talking them, but it seemed it didn't really matter to him to knock and beat students. A real bully. But the kids put up with it: the tragedy was that Superbi Squalo was not only a beauty and a bully, but also the man _truly_ was a bright professor. That was mostly the only reason why he hadn't been fired yet (this and, according to the rumors, also because the dean had a crush on him. Well, it's not as if no one would give an arm or two to screw the silverette some day).

So everyone except from the professor got back to their sits, some almost shaking uncontrollably, fearing that the next question would be directed to them. Yet, when he saw their faces twisted in fear, Squalo only grimaced and pointed a thumb at the amphi's door. "Oh, you get out. Damn scumbags. I'm fed up of seeing your quaking."

Then, very slowly, the students raised and left silently the room. The whole scene actually had been rather funny, just like a church procession.

"So? Tsuna, Gokudera, what do you think about him?" A boy asked his friends in the corridor leading to the campus' dining hall.

"A psychopath." A brunette and a silver haired boy said simultaneously.

"Aaa, I can't believe I'll be having him for four months!" The one named Tsuna complained frighteningly. "I wonder if it's still possible to change my program now."

"It's too late." The silver head grunted. "Unless we want to repeat this year. Plus we need good marks in this course if we want to begin the other ones. What a drag."

"Eeeh? Gokudera, you're sure about this?" Tsuna squealed. "God, so there's no more hope for me!"

"It's okay, Tsuna, we'll help you. Nee, Gokudera?"

The latter frowned. "You baseball idiot! If there's someone who can help the Tenth, it's me!"

Tsuna paled a little. "Gokudera, I think having Yamamoto wouldn't be bad either." Then lower, "Mostly because I won't understand half of what you'll be talking about."

"Yes? Did you say something?" The silverette beamed.

"N-no. Nothing… But, Yamamoto, you don't look too shocked about that professor."

"Mmh." Yamamoto shook his head and shrugged. "He looks nice."

Both males sent him a glare of disbelief, as though they wanted to say 'You serious?'

…

"You serious?" Squalo demanded. "My damn flat is on the sixth floor and you tell me the elevator is out of order?"

He was standing haggard in front of a huge and modern building located in a residential area of Namimori, as a matter of fact the house he had been occupying for barely one hour. The moving had been excruciating, not because there had been many things to pack, but mainly because it had been done during a weekday. Squalo barely had time to rest after his job and immediately went to supervise the moving. And with the elevator in that state, it took awfully long to finish bringing all the furniture in the flat.

It took more or less three hours to be done. Around him still were few unpacked stuff, bags and mostly light luggage. In front of him, an old man, the landlord, bowed apologetically.

"Sorry, sorry, sir. But don't worry. The repair should begin next month, so until then you just need to wait patiently."

The silver haired man sighed furiously. That was the best. He chose that stupid flat since the building was closer to his workplace than the previous one, and _that_ had to happen. No wonder why the rent was so cheap. Squalo settled on _not_ grinning and just bearing it.

It took two more travels to bring the rest of his luggage, but in the end, the silverette wasn't disenchanted. In fact, the one bedroom LDK flat was pretty comfy. It wasn't too big or too small, just perfect enough for one person. After leaving his stuff in the living-room (he could be kind of a cleaning freak sometimes, but that day Squalo was just so tired he didn't give a damn about the mess around him anymore), Squalo went to inspect the flat.

Everything was pretty simple: a modern kitchen, a living-room bathed in the sunlight from a bay-window giving on a small balcony, an entirely white tiled bathroom and a dressing-room adjacent to the double bed bedroom. Simple and fair, except from the elevator, of course. The silver haired man once more heaved a sigh of frustration, then went to the bathroom. First, he wanted to get rid of his weariness. After all, the day after he still had to see the butt faces of that morning. First days of semesters really sucked. As well as the days in the middle. By the end of the semester, he would only find the strength not to burst his brains in the very thought that holidays – and freedom – were near.

Squalo let the hot water poor in the tub and waited till it was filled to the brim. By that time he had his clothes taken off and his long hair tied in a chignon. As he walked to the bathtub, he saw his reflection in the mirror above the lavabo. He frowned. No matter how much he tried to look rough and manly, every time he looked into the mirror, he would always see that feminine face staring back at him. His body, though, was slightly different. It was slender but not frail, all thanks to years and years of practicing sword. Plus add with that the scars – from benign scratches to more serious ones, but never deadly. And also, his chest was flat. That somehow was a relief.

"At least I didn't grow boobs in my teenage years." He murmured and went in the water, welcoming the burning touch on his skin.

Squalo let himself totally get immerged in the water before getting out, this time with his wet hair sticking on his back and forehead. The silverette was truly fond of water, of sea or anything related to dihydrogen monoxide, as long as he could swim in. Well, he couldn't swim in the tub, but it had been so long since the last time he got near a pool he couldn't help but feel relieved.

"Well, maybe I can get used to this house after all." He breathed loud and closed his eyes, his head resting on the edge of the bathtub. He needed to rest, so he let himself slumber idly in the lukewarm water. In any case, the neighboring was quiet and it looked like no one was living next door. Since there were only two flats by floor and also because he was at the last one, it meant he wouldn't have to worry about hearing the upstairs-couples-arguments and the upstairs-children-running-like-the-devil's-hounds.

"Ah," He thought. "But tomorrow, there'll certainly be the welcoming committee annoying me first in the morning. How bothersome."

Bothersome, but he didn't want to think about them anymore. He let himself fall asleep (a not-to-do thing when you're in your bath). Slowly, slowly, sleep was making his eyelids heavy and his body getting numb…

Unfortunately, this state of half slumber barely lasted five minutes as a strange noise resounded from the living-room. Alert, Squalo swiftly rose from the water and got on his feet.

'What the hell…?' He pondered while grabbing a towel and tying it around his thin waist.

The silverette wasn't particularly worried about anything. It seemed to him that his entire life, he had spent it beating the crap out of guys whether older or (supposedly) stronger than him. A burglar or two didn't frighten him; Hell, he had seen worse before.

Taking another towel to dry his hair, he silently got out of the bathroom, taking care of not switching the light off so that he could surprise the intruder right on the spot. He walked bare feet to the kitchen whilst carefully leaning on the wall not to be seen by anyone who would have been in the living. Those were too many precautions, but he learnt by experience that in those kind of situations, too much was always better than too little.

The little noise made itself heard again. Now Squalo was outside the bathroom, it became clearer. It was like a crunching, or the sound of rustled leaves. Squalo knew where it was coming from: all along the building was climbing ivy which was almost recovering the entire front wall. That only meant that an idiot was climbing the wall, using the ivy.

Squalo sighed. And earlier he thought the area was safe… He readied himself to welcome the trespasser, cursing already about all the cleaning he would have to do after that, but then something he hadn't expected at all happened. Like a thunder suddenly rumbling in a quiet afternoon, the bay window overlooking the balcony just exploded right under his eyes, disintegrating into many pieces of glass and wood, all in a deafening and monstrous blast.

"What the hell?" The long haired man yelled, flabbergasted.

Even in the dimness of the night, the living-room was practically unrecognizable. Pieces of glass scattered on the floor and plaster covering the whole place, the living-room actually looked like one of those destroyed ones in war movies. Out of the blue, from the huge hole replacing the opening slowly came out a tall and dark form which was pretty similar to a man. He came into the room. As he walked closer, Squalo could distinguish dark and spiky hair, tanned skin blemished by strange dark scars, red feathers dangling on his neck and a wicked and nasty look on his face. He didn't give the impression of knowing the silverette, nor even noticing they were in the same room. He just walked as though he wanted to go to the bedroom (whose door was right next to the long haired man). That was only when Squalo somehow grasped what was going on. He glowered at the newcomer.

"Vooi, who the fuck are you?" He shouted.

"Huh?" The tanned man stopped, finally aware of the other male's presence in the room. "That's my line, scum. What the hell are you doing in _my_ house?"

" _Your_ , you said? Like shit." Now the tanned man was only one meter away from Squalo, and the latter could easily sense a strong smell of alcohol on him. That man was indeed drunk. "I don't give a fuck about what you came here for, but be sure I won't let you get away that easily after what you did to my-"

"Aaah. Shut up, bitch." The dark haired man tried to push the silver haired one aside. "Let me fucking sleep and go out. Just call a damn taxi, I don't care."

Squalo had his eyes wide open. Did that bastard actually believe it was his room, and moreover that _he_ , Superbi Squalo, was a goddamn slut?

"Shitty asshole… You really don't seem to know what's good for you." Squalo's voice said, low and threateningly. "Hey- Voooi!"

The threat didn't discourage the dark haired man who casually pulled at Squalo's hair, forcing him to move aside. The man then took a step forward, but it seemed that whisky had already badly reached the part of his brains in control of motions. He just tripped over his own foot and fell down, and since he still was holding Squalo's hair tight, the latter also fell on the ground with a dull _thud_.

"Ouch… Fuck you, damn bastard! Get off of me!" Squalo struggled to get rid of the unmoving body sprawled on top of him, but it was no use. The man was heavy and he was doing absolutely no effort to move away. Soon, Squalo heard snoring. "Voooi! Don't fucking fall asleep!"

A grunt was the tanned man's unique reply. That, and his squeezing the silverette hard in his arms, almost making him suffocate.

'You must be kidding me. Hey, you really must be kidding me.' Squalo kept turning over in his mind. This situation – him laying half naked on the floor of his kitchen with a drunkard he didn't even know – wasn't exactly what he had hoped for his first day in his new flat.

"That's the worst." He said, horrified.

TBC


	2. Why my heart and my fridge are empty

Hell~o my friends. i'm so happy to talk with you again and also to publish the next chapter of my new story. i'm very ill right now. maybe my friends are right when they say i'm always ill. my most of time, when i feel i am, i feel in the mood of writing. now i'm only fed up with everything. but maybe it's b/c of that angsty/drama fic (cruel intentions, a mikhafei fic i found on ao3).

aaa i'm so fed up with everything. i'm not sleepy, though, even if i took medicines. perhaps b/c of coffee.

* * *

When Xanxus woke up that morning, the first thing he could feel was a weight on his chest. The weight wasn't that heavy, but it sure smelled good. And it felt warm, too.

The second thing the raven felt was an awful backache: he had spent the whole night on the floor.

"Motherfuck…" He mumbled furiously when the third thing – the hangover – made itself known. In the end, mixing too many sorts of booze together had been a real bad idea.

He tried to rise from the floor, but that was when he understood that he actually couldn't move freely at all. His hands groped in the blinding light of the morning, only to meet a pulpous matter, rounded and soft and firm in the same time… Then his eyes cracked open to see long, gleaming and silvery hair. His glance trailed down on a naked, lean back, and lower and lower until they recognized the soft matter under his fingertips as being a stranger's ass (more exactly, the towel on a stranger's ass).

A chick? Had he slept with her last night? Hell, he had been so drunk Xanxus couldn't remember anymore. He was about to push the girl aside when the latter suddenly shifted in her sleep and rose her head a little so that she was fully facing the raven, her eyelids still heavy and her eyes sleepy.

As Xanxus tried to distinguish her features in his blurred vision, the chick's face became more and more precise. She wasn't ugly; she was even far from being ugly: long eyelashes, smooth skin, thin lips and… (He pressed the woman's bottom cheeks again) nice ass.

"Huh?" She uttered with a very deep and grave voice, which really wasn't matching her face. It was too much masculine, too much virile… Xanxus froze when he sensed _no breast_ at all where there should naturally be some. "Huuuuh? Let go of me, you pervert!"

The chick – no, actually _the man_ – struggled, the beautiful face now a mask of ire and shame. But something in Xanxus' mind surely did shut down at the revelation, since his hands kept on clamping at Squalo's ass.

"You shit, who the fuck are you? And what the hell…" Xanxus fumed menacingly.

"I'm _not_ gonna talk about that again, fucktard! Let go! Get the fuck out of here, right now!"

Holy mother of God, Xanxus pondered, last night, was it possible that he and that guy…? No way! But again, he was too drunk to remember anything. All he could recall was that he had been in the usual bar, he tried to hook some bitch but in the end he got slapped on the face, then he went home but couldn't find his keys. So, too lazy to call for the landlord, he climbed on the wall (as stupid as it may sound, that was really what happened the night before) then got in his room… Then at some point everything went black. A total blackout.

"Voooi! Did you hear me? Bastard, let g-"

"Umm…" A voice resounded from the door. Both men turned to glare at the intruder. It was only a young boy, short and with fluffy brown hair who was watching at them with a wide blush spread all over his girlish face and a fuming cake in his hands. "G-G-Good morning, sir. I-I-I'm living on the second floor with my mother. She told me to bring you this (he presented the cake). I-i-it's a pleasure to mee-mee-meet-"

"Voi, brat!" Squalo roared angrily. "If you have nothing to do here anymore, get away or I'll rip your eyes out of their sockets!"

And how are you supposed to do that in your position? Xanxus wanted to say, but instead he pulled at the silken hair, making the silverette turned to look at him once more. "It hurts, damn you! It hurts!"

"Don't forget this is _my_ house, damn shit."

Squalo couldn't even find the strength to yell to the man beneath him anymore. He just kept on staring at him with a what's-the-point-of-fighting face. He didn't' expect the other brunette to raise his voice again.

"Mr. Xanxus, I think you're wrong." He quacked. "Your room is next door. Maybe you mistook them yesterday? And since you didn't come back for days, you couldn't have known someone else has rented this one…"

Xanxus looked at the kid questioningly, his eyebrows furrowing, then at Squalo.

"You burst my window-bay and fell on me, moron!" The latter concluded.

Xanxus' face went blank (like 'Oh, so finally I didn't do that idiot transvestite') – which, mixed with his always menacing air, resulted in a rather funny expression.

"So?" Squalo asked. "Satisfied?"

His answer was a shoving on the ground, and Squalo's head hitting a nearby chair leg.

"Don't fucking make yourself fucking comfortable, damn trash." The raven, released the silverette then got up while looking at Squalo with an obvious disdain. So now, he was only going to play dumb, Squalo thought. But something he hadn't been able to understand was why the raven didn't leave the apartment yet and instead slouched on the couch and switched the TV on.

"What are you…"

"Anyway I can't go back home. I've lost my keys and there's no food there." He waved an imperious hand toward the silver haired man.

"So you're telling me to feed you, shitty bastard?!"

"Mr. Squalo." Tsuna was murmuring so the TV completely would cover his voice. "It's no use with that man, maybe. That is… technically, he's this building's owner, and of many others. He's kind of a powerful man in the country…"

Squalo's eyes widened with horror and pointed an accusing finger at the raven who had just puked on his carpet.

" _That_?"

…

That day, Squalo arrived late at Namimori U. The day after, the one after, and again the one after, he had also been late.

At his dark eye rings, his slightly messy look and the vein that was about to explode on his forehead, the students knew better than messing with him the whole day. If their favorite professor had always been very irritable, now he was almost looking like a nuclear bomb ready to destroy the university and everything within a radius of ten kilometers.

But the reason to all of this was quite simple: as if by magic, the silverette more or less didn't have any choice but cook for his bastard neighbor, first every morning, but it slowly turned to be for breakfasts _and_ dinners.

 _This_ is something the silver haired man would have never believe would happen in his entire life. Ever. Yet everything happened so naturally it was almost extraordinary.

So, the first day, Squalo clearly told Xanxus to 'go fuck himself in Hell', that he 'didn't feed freaks', and also that he 'had to clean up all the shit that the bastard made in the living'. However, the raven didn't give in. It had become a real battle of will in the chaotic décor of the ruined living-room. But the conditions were against Squalo: he had to be at the university one hour later and Xanxus was what one could call a lazy-ass NEET and a more than qualified squatter-to-be.

Of course, no one at Namimori U was aware of that fact. Tsuna, who happened to be the professor's neighbor, didn't breathe a word about the scene he had been witness of on that dreadful morning. He would always manage to leave his own apartment before the silverette left his, and practically run back home not to meet him on his way (which was purely useless since Squalo didn't ever remember his face).

This wasn't hatred, though. This was pure cowardice.

So, on the first day, Squalo capitulated and prepared as fast as he could a copious breakfast (the fridge, fortunately, was full of provisions). First, Squalo did just enough for one person – for him, obviously – but it didn't pleased the raven at all. The man just stole the silverette's chocolate pancakes and cinnamon rolls, then threw away the orange juice, saying it was 'pure shit'. Yet, perhaps the others weren't that bad, since next morning the squatter was back claiming more food. The next morning, too, and the one after that, then the evening, like a beast hunting for food and smelling some next door. Soon, the raven didn't leave Squalo's couch anymore.

At night only would he go out, God only knows where. Squalo didn't bother asking him. When he was back the day after (very early in the morning, maybe around 3 or 4 a.m.), a strong scent of woman perfume, alcohol and cigar would always linger around him. Then Xanxus would sprawl heavily on the couch and only wake up hours later with a hellish headache and, on the table next to him (and, the days after, this had practically become a silent rule), a glass of water and aspirin both left by the silverette before he went to work.

The bay-window had been repaired the next day. Squalo had to call for a glazier. Obviously, Xanxus didn't raise a little finger.

From time to time, Squalo pondered. Maybe if he had been a stray cat or dog, the silver haired man wouldn't have raised a complaint about him. But a grown up human being, and moreover a man that would drink whisky and loot his kitchen every day God would grant them… That wasn't cute at all.

"Voi! Can't you go eat someone else?" He inquired him angrily. "I don't know… Restaurant, fast food or anywhere else but at my place! Why do I always have to cook for two people and arrive late at work every fucking day?"

"Are you crazy?" Xanxus answered the most naturally possible, as if it as a matter of fact. "Restaurants are damn miles away and I won't eat trashy fast food."

Squalo facepalmed. "Then take a maid, dammit! Maybe you spoiled rich brat can't understand the very concept of job and all that stuff, but let me tell you that most of people have to do that to keep on living. And being late every morning doesn't help me at all!"

"Che. You poor commoner."

"Asshole! Are you fucking looking down on me?"

"Yes. So what?"

"Get. Out!"

But Xanxus didn't.

Every day after work, the silverette wasn't surprised anymore to see that man lying uncaringly in his living-room, watching idly any shit broadcasted on the TV, the fridge totally emptied and the remnants of its contents scattered on the floor in a chaotic confusion – and Squalo could never explain himself where did all the booze (whose bottles were now scattered in the fourth corners of the house) was coming from.

"There's no more food." He would say lazily. Squalo would only cast at him a stare of defeat, and then go to the kitchen to prepare the dinner, after cleaning the mess in the room (which, by the end of the day, looked much more like a dump than anything else).

If it all started with lodging and feeding, little by little – and in a so natural way that it was almost creepy – it developed into laundry and hangover nursing: unfamiliar clothes dirtied with pizza sauce ("So that bastard _can_ order fast food if he wants to." Squalo gritted), vomit and other mysterious substances would slowly but surely pile up in the laundry, and bizarrely, in this God forsaken world, it is a crime to let someone enjoy a good alcoholic coma without giving them any assistance.

Oh, he knew there was nothing to do about that situation anymore. The first days, he thrashed, he changed the locks, the keys, but the tanned man would always find a way to sneak in. Well, more exactly, to _kick_ his way in. One day, Squalo thought about leaving the apartment and never coming back; but it was no good: he had signed a leasing for a whole year. Then what about going to a friend's house for few days and let the squatter starve to death? He had no friends. A hotel? No way was he going to spend a fortune in order not to leave in a shitty motel!

Squalo was bitter. That man was just like a cockroach. An obnoxious, capricious, short-tempered cockroach.

"Voi, you really have no will of leaving this fucking couch one day, don't you." Squalo said one evening as they were having dinner in the living-room while watching a new program on the TV. In the end, his daily evenings had ended up like that: chitchatting pointlessly with Xanxus while having dinner. "You know, like go find a job or something."

"A job?" Xanxus spoke, not detaching his attention from the screen. "You stupid piece of scum, I _do_ have a job."

"What fucking kind of job? Sleeping and eating all day long ain't a job, you retard!"

"Who told you I was only sleeping and eating, dumb shit?"

"When I leave in the morning, you're whether sleeping or watching TV. When I come back, it's exactly the same!"

"Didn't you know?" Xanxus hissed. "There's a laps of 8 hours between your leaving and coming back here."

"And?"

Xanxus frowned. A headache was looming on his forehead, so he preferred staying quiet. Squalo raised an eyebrow and, getting up, he picked up the dirty dishes from the coffee table then walked to the kitchen.

"In any case, it's not as if you were going to live like this forever." Squalo said while doing the washing up. "Any plans for the future?"

"What? Are you my school counselor?"

The silverette sighed. "I say," he resumed, "that no normal woman would accept walking down the aisle with a leech like the one lying 24/7 on her couch. And how is it that the only times you succeed in getting out, it's only to come back as drunk as a lord?"

"I already told you…"

"Yeah, yeah."

"And as long as I got someone to clean my house and some action on a regular basis, I don't need a wife."

"Excuse me, but I don't remember this house becoming yours." Squalo was done with the dishes and went back to the living. He then took the remote, sat next to Xanxus and started zapping indifferently one channel after another, his head resting on his palm, his arm folded on crossed legs. "Nor do I remember seeing you dating any woman since I got here."

For some time, Xanxus stared quietly at Squalo, watched the shiny hair falling straight on his shoulders and waist, and somehow recalled the memory of the softness of the silverette's ass. That somehow irritated him. He was a man, wasn't he? He couldn't seriously be attracted by a man's body. He was getting laid on a daily basis, and he was more than just _good_ at that. Being with the silver haired trash was simply convenient for him, like a food distributor. One that didn't need any adjustment but, strangely, seemed to be already perfect for all his needs.

Hell, Xanxus didn't like to have to justify himself. He didn't like that at all – damn that was more than infuriating.

"Because now I have to specially report to you every woman I date?" He finally replied, annoyed.

"Voi, Xanxus. Bumping random whores is quite different from dating a woman."

"Quite the same for me."

"And since when do you have to _pay_ women you're dating?"

"But a hooker won't ask for presents or for me to bring her to restaurants or on holidays or-"

"Okay, okay, I got it."

They both remained quiet. Apart from the movie displaying on the TV screen (an old thriller in black and white starring Anthony Perkins and Vera miles, Psycho) only silence was lingering in the room.

One hour later, when the woman was finally getting stabbed in the shower, all panicking and screaming, Squalo yawned and got up, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Aw… I'll take leave for today. Voi, Xanxus. When you're back tonight, if you can, go back to your own room."

"Shut up."

Squalo grinned and walked to the unique bedroom. But suddenly, he stopped halfway and looked back at Xanxus, a sarcastic smirk still stretching his lips.

"Wanna join me in bed?"

 _Crash_ was the sound of the glass hitting and breaking on the long haired man's head.

TBC


	3. Why things go from bad to worse

Third chap~ you'll have to wait a little longer for smut.

And i'm soooo proud of myself right now i have to brag. For my 5th year of college, i've almost done NOTHING, nothing but writing fanfic and crying over my depressing life. AND YET I GOT ACCEPTABLE MARKS. OMG i remeber that day right before an exam i still was watching animes on my PC and i was like 'it's ok, i'll study later'... in the end, i spent teh whole night watching anime and the next morning i was just so 'Ah? what's happening? what the hell is THAT?' in front of my test copy! Blwaaa. that's y i say studying means nothing

* * *

The usual bar with the usual luxurious décor and the usual suits-and-briefcases customers. A bar like another, where businessmen went to drink after a wearisome day of work. The entire place was bathed in the half-light, and everywhere was lingering a nice smell of perfumes and high-class cigar. At the other side of the vast room, a pianist was playing a popular piece of jazz, but no one seemed to even listen to him.

At the corner of the bar, where "simple" customers weren't allowed, there was an isolated box that would be reserved every evening by the same bunch of clients. There, Xanxus was slumping on a leather bench, facing two slightly drowsy faces and a table overloaded with expensive liquors.

"So, next question is…" A smiley Dino said. "How would you describe your ideal companion?"

Ieyasu violently put his drink off on the table. His reddened face was the obvious proof of his drunken state. "The answer is obviously… My lovely Nana-chan!"

Dino burst in laugh. "Your lovely Nana-chan, you say… You mean the same Nana-chan who kicked you out of your own house because you would always put your job before your family?"

"Gaah! And she's so right!" Ieyasu cried out. "My dear Nana-chan, I'm so unworthy of your love!"

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

The old man snorted like a kid. "Don't laugh! You youngster will never understand how painful it is when the one you love hates you."

"Come on," Dino cheered him up. "It's not as if she had filed for divorce or anything. Now, let's forget our worries for tonight only."

Ieyasu snorted again before taking a gulp of whisky. "That's right. So how about you, you little punk? Any liking?"

"Me?... Mmmh." Dino was pensive. "I'd say… I don't really care about physique and all, but if I had to choose, then… black hair and sharp eyes are the best! And what about you, Xanxus?"

The raven glowered at Dino. In normal times, Xanxus would have never lost his time with such a bunch of scums, but the day had been long and tiresome, and he didn't feel like drinking at _that_ place. That's why he agreed on playing such a stupid game.

He grunted. "… Long hair, nice ass, thin lips…"

Dino grinned. "So alike the great Xanxus. Your preferences are always-"

But the raven wasn't over, and lack of understanding slowly made its way on his drinking buddies' face as, little by little, precisions were uttered by the tanned man:

"A good housekeeper, someone good at cooking and who wouldn't be nagging when I come home late at night or when the house is a mess…"

Dino and Ieyasu, in spite of their drunkenness, couldn't believe their ears. Did Xanxus actually say that? The very same Xanxus who would forget the face of a woman he just fucked a second before? And now that forever bachelor was talking casually about a married life? Something sure was fishy. They both stared at Xanxus with eyes that were practically screaming 'What the hell?' The latter finally noticed their curious gaze and glared back at them.

"What? What's so funny with that?"

"No…" Both replied nervously. "Nothing…"

As a matter of fact, one month earlier, Xanxus would have never given such an answer. However one has to agree that how he had been living for the last days – and by this I mean the fact that he had been sharing the same place with another human being – was truly deviating from how he used to live before. But this, of course, was kept unknown from Dino and Ieyasu. This and also another funny event that had just occurred the morning of the same day.

…

That morning came like a slap on the raven's face.

For once since months, Xanxus got up early. Though it hadn't been by choice: he just fell from the couch in the silverette's living-room. Xanxus groaned irately at the pain in his back, got up and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water (hard hangover again). He was sitting on one of the kitchen's stools, asking himself about seriously quitting drinking, when he heard the entrance door's lock being opened. Xanxus' heavy eyes opened wide when a pale silhouette appeared at the doorframe: that was Squalo in a white sweater.

The man stared curiously at the raven when he noticed the latter wasn't sleeping anymore.

"Voi, so you _can_ wake up at decent hours, can't you, Xanxus, when you want to."

"Shut up, dumb shit. What's with those clothes?"

"Can't you see it?" He frowned as if the answer was obvious. "I'm back from my morning jogging. Of course, it's the first time you see me like this, since it _is_ the first time you're awaken when I arrive here."

Xanxus said nothing. Squalo just shrugged and grabbed the bottle Xanxus left on the island. He gulped it down to the last drop, then sighed satisfyingly. "Phew! I needed this."

Xanxus didn't think it was important to tell him it had been the same bottle from which he just drank. He just watched the silver haired man heading to the bathroom while untying his hair (it was tied into a ponytail. It was the first time Xanxus saw it like that and, somehow, it looked quite good on the trash).

"Vooi, Xanxus," the silverette said from the bathroom. "You should also do that once in a while. Running, breathing fresh air. Anyway, anything is better than drinking all night and watching TV all day. You'll get fat, I tell you."

The dark haired man che-ed furiously. "Keep your damn advice for you. I've never been fat and I'll never…Never…"

He paused, his face blank. This is something he should have never done, the raven cursed in his inner self: without thinking, he had turned to look at the bathroom door (which was only few meters away from where Xanxus was sitting), instinctively assuming that it would be closed.

It wasn't.

More precisely, he was only slightly open – Squalo surely forgot to lock it from the inside – but the small opening was big enough to catch a full sight of what was happening inside. That is, Squalo who was getting undressed in front of the door, totally oblivious of the raven's nervous gaze on him.

It wasn't as though Xanxus did it on purpose. Still the scene he got from the bathroom somehow disturbed him enough not to break eye contact with the embrasure.

In the white tiled room, Squalo had got rid of the sweaty clothes. Now, nothing was hiding his perfect white skin but the veil-like mane that was falling graciously on his back, shoulders and waist. Xanxus had already seen the silverette's half naked body before, he had had a small idea of how soft his skin was… But actually seeing it fully bare was totally another thing. And the unaware silver beauty was turning his back to the raven, so the latter could see it all: the firm and rounded flesh of his ass, the slender thighs and long legs that seemed had been specially cut for a model…

But then Squalo swiftly moved to the shower – thus a blind spot for the tanned man. At that moment, maybe was it because of all the alcohol still present in his blood, but Xanxus stupidly tried to follow the naked beauty with his eyes… However, he failed to remember the fact that he was sitting on a one-legged stool.

The seat fell under Xanxus' weight, as a result dragging along the raven with it. The latter tumbled heavily on the ground (for the second time of the day).

"Fuck…" He cursed, not only because of the doubled pain in his back, but also because of that little voice in his brain that told him he was wandering on dangerous lands.

Hearing the ruckus in his kitchen, Squalo rushed out of the bathroom (fortunately with a dressing-gown hiding the cause of said ruckus). He sighed angrily as he saw Xanxus sprawling inelegantly on the floor.

"What the…" He ruffled his hair and crouched near Xanxus, scowling. "Vooi, stupid bastard. Too early to sleep it off?"

The raven, still lying down, looked at the patient greyish orbs above him.

"You scum." He said. "I can see under your fucking gown."

…

Squalo nearly kicked the asshole slouched under him, but he processed it would have only worsened the situation. The situation under his gown, that is. He swiftly rose from the spot next to the raven and, without saying a word, went back to the bathroom. Half an hour later, he was off for Namimori U, leaving Xanxus in front of the Bachelor show.

If in the beginning, Xanxus was rather upset, by the middle of the show, the man was totally irritated. It was depressing to no hell. All the stupid bitches that would whine after a single asshole… Well? It's not as if Xanxus had never been in that kind of situation. He _had_ , and many times. It wasn't something to boast about. Still it was depressing, and annoying. Just why in the world did that stupid show have to last for 2 damn hours? Only seeing one of the moronic sluts made Xanxus' fingers twitch with anger. He wanted to change the channels, but couldn't find the remote.

So he was stuck with Darian who couldn't choose between Cheryl's ass and Hannah's boobs.

Yet, Xanxus had to admit, the slut sure had a nice body, plus a perfect face and perfect mane. The raven couldn't explain himself the sigh he heaved as he caught a glimpse of Hannah's tits in the shower. The relief actually turned into more frustration when his mind automatically compared the bitch's body with the sivlerette's.

Truth be said, Squalo didn't have that much of a muscular or virile body-build, though it was hard to mistake him for a female: it lacked the weakness of her. Moreover, it wasn't as if he had any reason to envy any of the bitches. His face was gracious – in an utterly different level from hers; his hair was glistening even though he didn't seem to care that much about it; and also that strange feeling of calm he felt when the silverette was near him…

No, he didn't want to think about that anymore.

"Fuck." He kicked the coffee table in front of him. "I just need to get laid. That's all."

But at that point, the phone rang. The phone in Squalo's apartment had never rung before, and Xanxus didn't have the slightest intention to pick it up. He didn't have to. Few seconds later, a long _bip_ resounded after the prerecorded message. Xanxus' expression darkened when he recognized the voice of the man who was leaving the voice mail.

…

"So you're telling me that Danish asshole didn't let go of his fucking plant?" Xanxus fumed.

"Th-th-this hadn't exactly happened like that." A tall man with spiky hair bowed in front of the raven. His whole body was shivering with fear. He couldn't even bear the fixed stare of Xanxus on his back. "Mr. Daulay told us it'll always be a pleasure to have transactions with our company. But their businesses are going smoothly at the moment so maybe they won't-"

"They won't nothing, you good-for-nothing trash!" The raven roared as he kicked the mahogany table on which his feet had been resting since the beginning of the meeting.

In point of fact, in the huge office he was occupying on the last floor of that town center modern building, he was the only one who was allowed such informalities. And no one in that room (and very certainly in that part of the world) would ever dare raise their voice against Xanxus Vongola, the wicked and pitiless CEO of VR Co.

"Flatter him, bribe him, fucking rape and kill his wife and lovers, get his fingers ripped one by one and I'll see if he can remain that son of a bitch of a nice guy."

 _Bam_.

The discussion was over. Everyone in Xanxus' office – and they were so many the raven couldn't remember their names and faces in the same time (and didn't care about doing so) – everyone ran away as though they'd never been there in the first place. The tanned man was alone in his huge office, after six long hours of dealing with contracts and debtors with names so famous none would ever believe they actually were at one inch from bankruptcy and having their asses fucked by Xanxus' hounds, aka army of lawyers.

But everything wasn't _that_ dark. VR Co. wasn't just a simple illegal organization: it was an illegal organization hidden behind the features of a pompous multinational that had its tentacles spreading from the oil market to the military sector, the steel industry and the hotel business. Frankly speaking, Xanxus was a tycoon like none had seen for decades. He was naturally born to do business and succeeded (by _all_ means necessary) in everything he initiated.

And that was mainly how he was spending the 8 hours before Squalo came back home.

And he would never miss the silverette's coming back. As a respectable boss, the raven would always arrive after everyone in the morning and leave his office before everyone in the evening. However, something strange happened few weeks earlier: Xanxus simply skipped his work and lived off the grid.

That might happen, from time to time. The boss would disappear God only knew where without warning anyone, still he would always come back few days after.

But that time was different: everyone knew perfectly where he was, what he was doing, they tried to contact him, but the raven just ignored them and kept on living his life of kept man. No one understood why but, hey, he was the boss, wasn't he? They weren't going to argue with their boss.

Yet, even if he didn't want to, Xanxus had to come back. An important deal with a huge Danish refinery (and in the same time the future of their entire European branch) was at stake. Even someone as irresponsible as the raven knew it wasn't something he could easily overlook. But the scum didn't flinch one second, and Xanxus was far from a patient man. Daulay had already one leg in his grave.

Even after leaving the bar, Xanxus still was ruminating those dark thoughts deep in his mind. It wasn't that late, maybe 10 p.m. For once, the raven was going to go to bed (more exactly Squalo's couch) early. His limousine dropped him at the apartment. As always, when he came in, the place was immersed in darkness. Yet, something was different: on the portmanteau where the silverette would always hang his coat (it was still the beginning of spring and the weather wasn't that mild), there was nothing. That only meant that the man wasn't back yet. That was when he remembered something he said that morning, that he would be coming late at home, or something like that, because of some stupid stuff he had to do at the university.

It annoyed the raven. He was already in a bad mood, drunken, but somewhat, seeing that the silver haired man wasn't there for him to take his frustration on, was even more annoying. Picking up his phone, he dialed his chauffeur's number, telling him to come back at once.

"Where are we heading to, Mr. Xanxus?" The man asked from his seat when the raven got on the rear seat He could see from the latter's face, which was reflected on the driving mirror, that Xanxus was more pissed than when he left him few minutes earlier.

"Namimori U." Xanxus said sinisterly.

The chauffeur didn't ask why, he didn't want to get involved in what was maddening his boss that much. He just switched the ignition on and drove to the university.

And he had been right. Half an hour later, when Xanxus finally found Squalo with obvious kiss marks on his neck, no one, not even the silverette, would have liked to be within a radius of 3 kms of the raven.

TBC


	4. Why you should avoid dark corners

Hey guys i'm so very very sooooorry for not publishing this chapter sooner. I had a lot or problem writing my thesis and giving it back, and i'm sure hte next chapter will come late too cause i'll have a stupid thesis defense soon, so i can't precisely write a lot lately.

And OMG this thesis is going to kill me. Yesterday, when i gave it back, i almost threw up everything i'd eaten, and the worst was that i had barely eaten anything since the morning. And my brain acts strangely too, like i forget a lot of things and i can't calculate as fast as before... scarecely. And i'm not really sure how to write words at all. i hope it will be over soon.

Please enjoy this chapter. i wrote it when i still was in full capacity of my brain cells.

* * *

 _That morning_.

"Xanxus! Are you listening?" Squalo asked for the second time. The raven, though, didn't look as if he had heard what he said. He just kept on watching the Bachelor, sprawled on the couch and eyes glassy, like mesmerized by the infinite stupidity of the show. The silverette sighed, annoyed. "Don't fucking complain later."

Squalo picked his coat and got out of the apartment. He was sure the raven would complain, that was an obvious fact. After all, he certainly wouldn't be back before 10 or 11 in the night, so who did the tanned man think would be cooking his damn dinner? The silverette could almost see the tantrum, in the same way one can see a tornado coming from the desert. Still, it couldn't be helped. He had given his word, and Superbi Squalo would never take it back.

"Oh, Squalo-sensei!" A dark haired youth greeted him at the entrance of Namimori U, all smiling. "I'm glad you didn't skip."

Squalo glared at Yamamoto. "Voooi, shitty brat. Who do you think you're talking to? And don't wait for me in this kind of place first thing in the morning. That's gross!"

Takeshi followed the long haired man as he crossed the gigantic portico. It was a week day, so the corridors of the university still were full of people waiting for their next courses while chitchatting idly. And it was with a dumbfounded expression that everyone welcomed the sight of Yamamoto walking by the deadly silverette's side. Just who was that lucky bastard who succeeded in getting that close to the silver beauty? Voices were whispering. Squalo didn't even notice them.

"But if I didn't, I wouldn't be sure you were really coming or not." The boy laughed, him, too, oblivious to the envious stares. "Still I'm surprised. Well, I'm surprised _and_ thankful, of course. When I talked to my dad about you, the first thing he said was that you were the best swordsman he had ever seen in his whole life. And if dad said that, it must be true. But saying that such a great sword master would actually be a professor at my college, and even accept to train me specially… I'm amazed."

"Stop grinning like a complete idiot." Squalo hissed. "I've already seen your fighting style… No, I won't even call that a style. It's more similar to a dancing monkey than anything else. I can't believe you're truly Tsuyoshi's son. The poor man must be puking in his grave right now."

"Ha ha…" Takeshi scratched his temple. "Dad isn't dead yet, though…"

By that time, they were entering into a huge gymnasium. There were many of them in Namimori U, but that one had a particularity: it was the farthest gymnasium from the campus. Once locked in, one could scream, cry and call for help, but no one would come to save them.

Unsurprisingly, Squalo was the one who chose the place. It's been a long time since he last waved a sword in his hands. But at the moment his skin made contact with the firm handle, the old reflexes came back. Yamamoto's lips stretched as he saw the silverette swing his wooden blade from a hand to another, his expression already betraying the boiling impatience in him.

"I'm glad you like it." He said and unsheathed his own katana. "You know, sensei, I actually was a bit nervous about today, but it seems-"

He wasn't given time to finish his sentence. Hell, the boy barely had enough time to dodge the silver haired man's attack, just half an inch from his head. If Yamamoto hadn't thrown himself on the floor, he more than certainly would have been beheaded by now. So Squalo was truly serious about this training.

He looked down at the boy. "Vooi, kiddo. Where are you looking at? Don't forget your fucking adversary is right in front of you. Do something as stupid as taking your eyes off of me only one second and you won't make it till tonight."

Never taking his eyes off him? It wasn't as though it would be very difficult. The spectacle of a focused and overly proud long haired beauty wasn't something one could get tired of easily. Yamamoto raised his hand. "Um, sensei? Don't you want to have a change of clothes before we start? There are kimonos and hakamas in the changing rooms, so… Aaa!"

Another fast parade. Takeshi was maybe 'dancing like a monkey', he however had swift eyes and reflexes that were matching Squalo's. Barely enough to survive, though.

By the end of the day, the youth wasn't recognizable: his clothes were torn on many points, his skin was blossoming with various bruises, and he was quite sure he had more than two broken bones. Still the training wasn't over. They hadn't stopped since the morning, nor for the lunch, neither when the sky started growing darker. But if Yamamoto was beginning to regret asking for a 'special' training with the swordsman, Squalo, on the other hand, was more than pleased he had taken a day off for it. In the end, he was showing his true self, which was the sadistic and stubborn instructor.

Yamamoto could scarcely follow the older man's moves, yet, he still _could_ follow them. This made of him a less vulnerable prey for Squalo. Now their speed was at perfect equilibrium but, while the dark hair teen was putting all his might defending himself, Squalo kept on attacking and attacking over again, not once breaking a sweat. In the vast empty space of the gymnasium were only resonating the sound of katanas knocking together and the stomps of the swordsmen on the floor. It looked as if none of them wanted to stop that senseless battle…

Till someone violently slammed the gymnasium's door open, stopping both of them dead on their track.

"You useless herbivores," the newcomer glared at them, "how long are planning on disturbing this place's tranquility?"

"Ah, Kyo-san." A taller man – the prefect's right hand man – appeared behind Hibari Kyoya. "It's okay. They've booked the gymnasium for the whole day."

Kyoya eyed disdainfully at them. "Huh. I don't think it allows them to continue their useless training throughout the night."

"Oh, Hibari." Yamamoto said after casting at the screen of his phone (which had been tossed on a pile of clothes in the middle of the tatami). "Now you talk about it, it's already past 9p.m."

"Quickly get out of here, herbivores." Kyoya demanded. "Or I'll bite you to death."

"Maa, don't be that mean, Hibari!" Yamamoto laughed the threat away. "You really never change, even since we were kids."

Hibari's eyes widened, as though Yamamoto had just uttered something really outrageous. He finally humph-ed and left the gymnasium, Kusakabe on his heels.

Takeshi laughed nervously. "I made him mad…"

"Voi, that brat's _always_ mad at something." Squalo stressed while ruffling at his silken hair. "Anyway, it's too late to continue. I guess you've made some little progress since that morning. At least you're not _totally_ disappointing."

"Really?" Yamamoto beamed. Squalo was sure if that brat had had a tail, it would have been whipping frantically at that moment.

"Aa. But don't get too cocky. You still have a long way to go until I approve you as a real swordsman."

Squalo's eyes were, as always, unwavering. But at his tone only, Takeshi could tell the man in front of him wasn't as harsh as everyone said. Carelessly, he held his hand out for Squalo to shake.

"Then… Starting from today, please be kind to me."

Squalo frowned but didn't move an inch. "Yeah, I'll be kind. Enough to break all your bones, so get prepared."

"I was sure you would say that." Yamamoto chuckled lightly. "Oh, you're leaving already? Wait!"

And before Squalo could retort, Yamamoto, after quickly putting away the swords, was following him again on the way back to the campus, not caring about taking a shower after their 12 hours long session or about his bruises.

Now the college grounds were completely silent. If it wasn't for the lamp posts scattered here and there on their way, the place would have been totally bathed in the darkness. This only added to the tension between both men. More than once Yamamoto tried to begin a discussion about things and over, but each one of his attempts was met with a 'Voi, shut the fuck up!' or a 'Ah. So?' Utterly vain, that was an understatement.

He sighed with disenchantment. So in the end, they were back to the teacher-student relationship? That thought crossed his mind when they reached the portico.

"So, see you tomorrow, brat." Squalo was on the point of turning his back to the dark haired teen when suddenly, he felt the latter grabbing at his arm. "Voi? Hadn't I broken that arm yet?" He asked, indifferent. Yamamoto grinned.

"Maybe it's the other?" He shifted nervously? "I… Um… I wanted to thank you for today."

"Ah? You don't. Not as if there's anything a brat like you can do to thank me."

"That's… wrong. Maybe."

The boy cast his eyes down. The silverette was starting to get annoyed from Yamamoto's hesitancy. He quickly wanted to go back home and get over with that tiresome day. "Voi, if you've got nothing to talk about anymore then let go of me. I-"

This time, it was Squalo's turn to get interrupted. Still, this time, it had been with the teen's lips fiercely crushing against the bewildered silverette's ones.

…

 _Then that night_

"Stupid kid!" Squalo cursed as he splashed more water on his face, and then glowered at his reflection in the mirror of his office's bathroom. The vision only made him grunt with frustration. "Still not fading…"

Rather than going straight home, he went back to the campus to delete the evidences of his previous assault. But they were spreading so visibly right above his shirt's collar it was almost useless. Squalo could find no ice to cool the skin around the bruises, so he had to do with cold water instead. At any rate… how could have he let such a brat take advantage of him _that_ way? Being kissed by someone way younger than him – a man, most of all – and even letting said brat going as far as leaving kissmarks on him… That was simply shameful.

Against all expectations, the silverette _wasn't_ used on being hit on. He was definitely more handsome than the average human being, but since people surrounding him were mostly college students (the brats) or same professors as him (the old farts), there had never been any serious threat before.

Until that day.

Ten minutes of rubbing later, no change. One way or another, the silverette had to put up with the glowing hickeys and the embarrassment that was going with them. He got out of the bathroom but paused when he got in the adjacent office.

" _What the hell_?"

Even in the half-dimness of the room (the silverette didn't bother about switching the light on), he easily spot the dark form of Xanxus sitting on his desk, legs crossed and eyebrows furrowed, staring angrily at him.

"Don't fucking 'what the hell' me, you piece of trash." He fumed. "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

"Huuuh?" Squalo's eyes widened with anger. "Hadn't I already told you I have some stuff to do here?"

"Do I give a damn shit about that…" Xanxus got up and quickly cornered the silverette against the wall. He lifted the latter's chin with his thumb. "What _is_ this?"

Squalo slapped Xanxus' hand away. "Nothing you should care about. And don't come that close!"

But the raven didn't back. On the contrary, he seized viciously a handful of the silver mane and pulled hard, making Squalo whine. "What's this, scum. So you can have fun when you want too. You manwhore."

"V-voi. I don't want to hear that from someone like… Ngh!" The silver haired man shivered when a thick tongue went licking at the already sensitized skin of his neck. "Voi… What… are you…!"

Xanxus listened to nothing. He just brutally pushed the silverette against the same desk he had been sitting on few seconds before. Squalo cursed as his back hit painfully at the angle. "Xanxus, you bastard. Did you go mad or something?"

"Shut it." The tanned man said while trapping the silverette between his arms. As he towered above him, the reality of the long haired man's gorgeousness was even more palpable. Squalo was extremely annoyed at the moment, yet his anger made him look way more attractive to the raven's eyes – or maybe it was just because of the booze.

However, Xanxus was also irate. He couldn't say anymore if it was due to the fact he didn't have his non-explicitly promised dinner or because he had to go all that way to find the silverette… or because he actually found him, but marked by some unknown stranger. How was it that the raven one-sidedly assumed the silverette would never have something as a sexual life?

"Hey, fucking stupid trash." He sneered at him. "What kind of woman was it? A biter? Although I'd never thought you'd be fond of those ones. But with a girly face like yours, you surely can pleasure men too. Am I wrong?"

The guy had gone mad, that was certain. If he hadn't, how could something as stupid as that cross his mind? What the silverette felt at that precise moment was beyond anger. Each cells of his body was practically crying at his wounded pride; each one telling him to kill the man who just offended him to the bones.

"Vooi." He said suddenly very calmly, his greyish orbs two bullets digging holes in Xanxus' face. "I don't know what kind of shitty suppositions you're making right now, and I fucking don't care. Anyway, you got it all wrong. Such a stupid brat… He doesn't even-"

" _He_ , you say? A man?" Xanxus' expression darkened. He now was staring heinously at the silver head. "After all, you're just a slut."

Squalo couldn't retort to this last affront as the raven's lips locked with his.

A toxic, carnivorous kiss that had nothing to do with the one he received earlier. Even if they were both men (or rather no. For him, the katana brat was just a brat, like many others), the silverette could clearly feel the difference. And the taste of whisky.

"Mnn… Voi, Xanxus." He panted with difficulty, Xanxus almost never letting go of his mouth. "Ah!... You're drunk, aren't you? Stop that!"

"I told you to shut up." Xanxus roared and spun him so that he had the silverette's back against his chest. He then pinned his wrists on the table with one hand while the other was fastening Squalo's head to avoid any fighting back.

It was bad, very bad, the silverette's mind was processing like lightning. He was in danger and he needed to get out of that wasps' nest the fastest possible and pulp the other bastard's face. Still it wasn't as though Squalo could do so. What an irony. And to think that one hour earlier he was beating the shit out of a brat.

With his arms tied and whole upper body painfully bent over the desk, he barely could move a single finger. But the hand he felt had just left the back of his head to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt to caress his back, told him worse was yet to come. Somehow, not being able to see the raven behind him made Squalo way more aware of his presence. Which was something he didn't want.

"Xanxus, I swear if you don't stop this right now I'll-"

"You'll do _what_ , you shitty piece of scum?" Xanxus smirked. "You'll call for help? You know you won't. Or are you planning on struggling? Don't make me laugh. A slut like you must be used being treated like this, aren't you? Whether having a man's meat deep in your throat or stuffing your asshole must be nothing for a whore like you."

"Fuck you!" Squalo cursed. He suddenly started when the rough hand finally left his back to pull his pants down and fondle at his ass. Soon after, he recognized the clink of a belt followed by the sound of a fly unzipped. Then something hard and hellishly hot prodding against his entrance. Words seemed to fail him as he slowly grasped at the horror of the situation: he was going to get raped, right there on his desk. And trying to free his wrists still was vain. Xanxus' hands were like a vice around them.

Only a sharp cry went past his lips when Xanxus forcefully penetrated him with his length.

TBC


	5. Why lions are kings

Idk anymore of how many days or weeks i'm late. i just hope u'll enjoy this chapter (_ _)

* * *

He cried. Though it hadn't been loud; only a high-pitched and strangled cry. Xanxus could feel Squalo's inner muscles tense and clench around his shaft as he plunged deeper and deeper in the welcoming heat. That guy… That damn silverette's ass was just so hot and tight it was almost impossible for him not to come right at the moment he put it in.

"Fuck…" He grunted and bent over the silver haired man. "Don't fucking push me back and relax, you stupid shit."

Strangely, Squalo complied. He took a deep breath and bit his lower lip, and then forced himself to ease Xanxus' ripping him from the inside.

And it hurt like hell. Squalo painfully scratched the desk and shut his eyes close. _It_ (sex with a man) was something that had never crossed his mind before. Or at least he supposed if he really had to, he wouldn't be the one to bottom. But with Xanxus' body totally trapping him beneath his taller, heavier (and a detail his pride would never admit, _stronger_ ) body, it wasn't that simple… Even less simple when the raven started moving in and out of him and when that enormous and hard and burning arousal of him shoved itself deeper and deeper in the smaller man with every thrust.

Xanxus' pace was erratic, he didn't even give Squalo one second to adjust to it. He just kept on driving madly in the silver haired man, his hands whether gripping hard at the latter's waist or trailing on the pallid skin of his thighs, and his face buried in the shiny mane scattered all over the table, surrounding the slender frame of the long haired man like a giant halo.

It was like fucking an angel.

Seeing that marvelous sight displayed right in front of him, the raven couldn't help but nuzzling in the sweet-smelling hair or rubbing the tip of his nose on the slender neck. It smelled so good. At that moment a thought popped in the tanned man's mind: did the skin taste as good as it smelled good? As if to assert that thought, Xanxus began licking and biting at the back of the silverette's neck. But when he arrived to that special place between the left ear and the throat, Squalo suddenly arched his back.

"Aa!... Mm…" A moan escaped from his lips. "Voi…"

Maybe was it because of the booze or all the shit waiting for him at work or because of that hellish sensation of scorching tightness around his erection… but the moan actually aroused the raven even more. The pounding of his hips slowly grew faster and faster, his teeth in the same time leaving more and more bruises on the silverette's skin.

At that point, he didn't care anymore about fastening the smaller man. All that he wanted was having more of Squalo's heat pressing on him. But as though the silver head could read his mind, Squalo raised his own hips slightly higher, and then one of his hands (which had been gripping at the edge of the desk) reached for under his belly. At the swift movement of his forearm, Xanxus could guess he was also relieving himself. The thought of the silver beauty who was _that_ excited because of him and the urge in his stomach made the tanned man move faster, harder against the silverette. Under him, Squalo was panting and whining louder. It didn't take much time for both men to come, Squalo in his own hand and Xanxus in the latter's hotness.

Few seconds later, with the last waves of their climax finally gone, the raven withdrew himself from the silver haired man. There was a sticky mess down there. Semen and blood ripping on alabaster thighs, few drops of them staining the ground. Xanxus half got up and fastened his belt while Squalo still was breathing hard against the desk, his body sprawled tiredly on it.

"Voi, damn bastard." Squalo said between two pants. "Satisfied now?"

As an answer, the raven circled the long haired man's waist with an arm. Squalo startled when he felt a calloused hand wiping the stickiness soiling his belly. "I'd say as much as you, trash."

Furious, the silverette smacked the raven's hand away and rapidly turned round whilst pulling his pants up. "Shut it." He hissed at him, his eyes glaring deadly. "Don't fucking touch me as if that was damn normal, you asshole!"

"Che. Why are you playing hard to get now? Bitch."

Xanxus' tone was light, almost playful. It was obvious his previous anger was gone. Squalo, on the other hand, was pretty pissed. "Don't call me a bitch, you damn horny- Ugh!"

He tripped and fell on the floor. And cursed. Xanxus just burst in laughs.

"Stupid useless whore." He laughed wickedly. "Unable to use your legs already?"

Squalo replied nothing. His pride was wounded enough. He just stayed there, sitting right on the ground, fists clenched and cheeks reddened. Finally, seeing the silverette unusually silenced and still was starting to annoy the raven.

"Damn trash…" He groaned before pulling the long haired man's arm to him, forcing him to get up on his feet. But since Squalo couldn't properly stand up, Xanxus (with his natural caring personality) had to piggyback him (which roused a countless number of curses and protests from the silverette) till they reached the outside of the university, and cheery on top of the cake, it had started to rain.

The limousine was waiting for him at the portal. When he saw them arriving, the chauffeur immediately opened the door to the rear seat. The raven threw Squalo inside. Complaints and swearing filled the luxurious car as they headed to the long haired man's apartment, and fortunately for the other passengers apart from the latter, the trip didn't last long. About twenty minutes later, they already reached the imposing building. Squalo got out of the car without waiting for the chauffeur to bring him an umbrella. His level of anger back to normal after all the silverette's ranting, Xanxus also got out after him. Squalo was about to come inside but Xanxus held him back. This time, there was no fighting back, no shout. Only an unusual heaviness around them.

"Why did you have to do that?" Sualo inquired. His voice was low and menacing. He was really serious, now.

"Why, you say." Xanxus humph-ed. "I don't have to explain myself to a trash like you."

The silverette breathed deeply, his eyebrows furrowed with anger. It was no use trying to talk to such a bastard after all. He tried to get in the building, but couldn't as his hair was viciously yanked backward.

"Voi…" He hissed when the dark haired man threw him against a street lamp, making a dull pain spread in his back and in the back of his head.

"You're fucking going nowhere." A towering Xanxus said to him. "Not without _my_ consent."

"Voi. I'm not one of those whores you use to do on a daily basis. Don't you ever think because you fucked my once you're going to own me or shit. I don't even get how I can put up seeing your face at the moment."

Xanxus grimaced. Or was it a smirk, it was hard to tell. " _You_ can't see my face? That's some shit you say, you damn slut." Before Squalo couldn't do anything, a vice-like grip came down on his throat. He gaped. "Who said you could just go and fool around with some asshole as you like?"

"F-fuck…" Squalo was desperately clutching at Xanxus' arm. "This has nothing… Kh… To do with you…"

"What if it does?"

The silver haired man was about to faint. His mind wasn't focused on anything in particular and his vision was going blurry, so he couldn't understand what was falling down on his head, so cold and wet, or what that soft and warm sensation on his lips was. Suddenly, the raven let go of his throat. Squalo jumped on the occasion to take breath of air after breath of air. The inside of his throat hurt, the only fact of swallowing his saliva hurt.

"You damn… Mmh!"

For the second time that day, the tanned man claimed his lips. Just like the first time, the kiss was rapturous and savage. It gave to the swordsman no time to take in air nor find his thoughts. The cold rain falling on him had totally sobered the taller man up, yet he didn't feel like backing from the silverette or breaking that closeness between them at all. But what he didn't except was the silverette to wrap his arm around his back and give back lick for lick and bite for bite. That, and also the fact the silver trash was actually a good kisser, if he put some mind into it.

They finally broke their embrace, leaving Squalo all panting and shaking and unable to stand on his feet anymore. Xanxus had him leaning against his chest again.

"Squalo…" He murmured in said man's ear.

"Tsk… What?" Squalo panted.

The raven smelled the sweet-smelling hair. "Let's do it again."

The silver head budged against him and a bewildered/shocked/livid face slowly raised to meet his. "Are you nuts?"

"Che. Don't you dare tell me you didn't like it."

"I still fucking can't walk because of you, damn bastard!"

Then came back the ranting again. A funny fact with it was that there was on one side Squalo who was berating like a mother-in-law to her daughter's husband, and on the other side, Xanxus – silent, from time to time grunting but in the end never rising his voice. As a matter of fact, he wasn't' even listening.

But in the same time, the weather was really starting to get cold. A rather harsh blast of wind suddenly blew on the singular couple. It made silver hair scatter in the air in a total chaos and whip at its owner's face (who was finally quieted). Out of the blue, goose pimples rapidly covered the raven's skin. He sneezed. Then they remembered they were outside in the rain (actually only a drizzle, but enough to dampen someone completely), and Xanxus was only dressed with a thin, linen long-sleeved shirt and his usual pants.

"Voi," Squalo asked with a tint of concern in his voice, "you didn't catch a cold, did you?"

The scarred man glowered at him. "Stupid scum, stop talking nonsense – s _neeze_. There's no way someone like me – _sneeze_ – can catch a cold – _sneeze_."

Heavy grayish orbs looked dubiously at Xanxus, with their very own way of saying 'who the hell are you kidding'. Xanxus didn't like how the conversation was turning, and as if it wasn't enough, the chauffeur got out of the car with a phone in his hand, warning the raven he had to attend a sudden and very important meeting.

"I won't be coming. Cancel that shit." Xanxus ordered.

The other man shook nervously. "B-but sir, I don't think…"

"Nobody asked you to think. Call them and tell them to fuck off."

I can't tell them _that_ , the look on the chauffeur's face was screaming. Squalo raised an eyebrow. "Voi, are you sure you shouldn't show up at that meeting? That guy (the silverette beckoned at the chauffeur) looks like he's going to pee in his pants soon, so much he's terrified to ask you."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Xanxus smirked. "And you just said I'm ill. And ill people have to be nursed, don't they?"

The long haired man's expression darkened as he was gradually realizing what the raven was implying. "Flu won't kill you."

"What do you know about it? Are you a doctor?"

"Stop being such a spoiled brat!"

A vein twitched on the tanned forehead. So, that was the limit of the pourpalers? Now he had no other choice but using strength. Seizing the silverette by the wrist before the latter could understand what was happening, he swiftly turned tail and hurried to the building, opened the huge front glass window, almost towed Squalo in the staircase (elevator forever out of order), and didn't stop until they got to the apartment.

Outside, the chauffeur was looking at the night sky with despair.

"So what am I going to do now?" He sobbed.

…

All things considered, Squalo wasn't a difficult man. He was kind of very masculine and proud on the inside, so you have to force stuffs to him, yet he'll always accept them quite easily if you know how to take it. This is mostly how the raven got the silverette to feed him in his own bed, and with TV removed from the living room so that Xanxus wouldn't miss the next episode of some stupid TV show.

"Trash, I can't see the screen." He pushed Squalo (who had been crouching at his bedside) away. "Move your fat ass."

"Voooi! For whose fucking sake am I doing this?" The long haired man shouted. "You haven't been amputated of our damn arms, use them!"

"I won't. And it's because of you I'm sick right now. So, less talking and more feeding, dumb trash."

Squalo capitulated and took another spoonful of hot soup. It was rather insipid, plus Xanxus had never been a big fan of veggies. The sight only was a reward: Squalo kneeling at his side, his long and dampened hair sticking to his alabaster skin, and looking at nothing else but him.

From time to time, he would bring the spoon to his lips. The tender yet thin flesh would then curl into a cute pout as he blew lightly at the fuming potage. As he did, his head slightly tilted aside, bringing to light the swan-like neck and the high cheekbones. Not once before that day had the raven noticed how perfectly honed were the silver head's features, how the skin was creamy and soft to the eyesight and how any movement of the man's limbs – from the simple fact of brushing his hair behind his ear to the way he's gesturing his hand from the bowl of soup to the raven – was measured and charming.

"Hey, trash, let's d-"

"Shut. Up." Squalo fumed and violently stuffed the spoon in the raven's mouth. "By the way, what about your job? Is it okay for you to leave as you like?"

Xanxus gulped and frowned. "I'm the boss so it's all right."

"Lucky bastard."

"Yeah. Move your ass here."

"Huh?"

In a fraction of second, Xanxus tugged at Squalo's arm, forcing the latter to lie down on the bed. Xanxus then nestled himself between the smaller man's legs, his back against the latter's chest, took the remote and started zapping all the programs on the TV.

Squalo raised his back a little to accommodate himself to his new state. "You're not planning to stay like this until tomorrow, are you…"

"As long as I want. _Sneeze_."

The silverette's eyebrow twitched nervously at the sound. "Vooi, Xanxus," he said and handed over another spoonful of potage, "eat this and fucking heal already."

TBC


	6. Why some people need a lot of magnesium

Aaaa~ its like it's been sooo long since last time i came on FF. I wont say i'm proud of this chapter too... not proud at all. but it had been fun cause it kinda reminded me my courses in college. i hate college & i FINALLY GOT OUT OF THERE JESUS THANK YOU

* * *

He woke up alone in his bed. What was to be expected? That Xanxus bastard simply disappeared after he got what he wanted. With one hand, Squalo ruffled furiously at his hair. He had been played with by a motherfucking man – the worst and shittiest bastard ever. How could someone as proud as the silver haired man react after such a humiliation?

"What day is it again…" Squalo yawned and reached for his phone on the nightstand. Oh, great. Wednesday. And he was late for work.

With the bitter composure adults take when they feel their life is a failure, the silverette swiftly got up and cursed when his legs betrayed him and quailed under his weight. Right after a dull pain made itself known at the bottom of his spine. With tiresome efforts, he dragged his aching body to the bathroom, but once arrived there, cursed again as he caught the sight of his even more bruised skin in the mirror. After a quick shower, he put on a thin and high-necked woolen pullover and slightly loose, black jeans. The silverette really didn't need anything to bother his walking at the moment. He added a large scarf, slipped on his usual coat and simple dark shoes, then got out.

But at the end of the morning, the longhaired man's mood hadn't got better. He couldn't focus plainly on his work, noticed he actually put the pullover on the wrong side. Moreover, for the entire duration of the courses, he had that creepy impression the brats were all staring stupidly at him, but the stare immediately disappeared when Squalo glared and shouted at them a "Stop gawking at me or I'll tear your damn eyes out of their sockets, shitheads". Very persuasive indeed (even if not very mature).

A very long and bothersome day.

And as if that wasn't enough, that annoying katana brat had to show him his smiling face once more.

"Yo, sensei," he greeted happily. "Thank you for yesterday. I had a lot of fun."

Squalo just sighed angrily and pressed his thumb against his temple. Actually, if the kid hadn't reappeared again, the silver haired man wouldn't have even recalled the previous day's incident. At least they were in an empty corridor so no one was going to overhear their conversation. "Vooi, something must be truly wrong in your head, kiddo-"

"Yamamoto." The dark haired boy stressed. "Yamamoto Takeshi. It seems you can't remember my name yet."

"Why should I bother? Now what do you want?"

The boy faintly shifted on his feet, as though he wasn't sure what he had to say exactly. "Well, yesterday you said, you'll be kind to me…"

 _That_ had been the last straw. Takeshi uttered a low cry as the silverette, with a rapid as well as violent kick, sent him fly at the other side of the hall. The boy coughed painfully whilst he slowly raised from his spot on the ground. "Just _what_ did I say?"

"Shut it, shitty brat! And don't you ever show your stupid face in front of me anymore!"

The older man turned tail. Seriously, what did they _all_ think of him? Or was it fully written the words 'easy fuck' on his forehead? That, or it had to be his smell, or his glands secreting some shitty hormones that were attracting all the horny idiots around him. And why did it have to be him, Superbi Squalo, a motherfucking _guy_?

The silverette was pacing rapidly in the university's corridors, ignoring any students or professors saluting him on his way. His attitude was starting to get ridiculous for a thirty-two years old man, he was fully aware of that fact, yet Squalo didn't give a damn. He didn't stop until he reached the outside of the building, more exactly a vast and quiet park not far from the entrance. The silver head strolled to a stone bench, sat up and, drawing a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, he brought a stick between his lips. But then, as he rummaged in his pocket to find the lighter, he heard heavy steps on the grass coming close to him. The clink of a lighter resounded in the silverette's ears and fire made its way to the tip of the latter's cigarette, lighting it.

"Aa. Thanks." Squalo took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

"You're welcome." A man's voice stated. Squalo looked at the newcomer: it was a middle-aged man with fair hair and goatee in the same shade. At the stranger's attitude and attire (a black and sober suit), the silverette somehow understood that man couldn't possibly be someone from Namimori U. He showed the place at the long haired man's side. "You don't mind?"

Squalo nodded. The other man smiled politely and sat next to him, lighting his own cigarette.

"Picking your kid?" Squalo asked.

"Yeah… my son." The older man laughed. "But I'm sure he'll be mad. College students don't really want their father to pick them after school, do they?"

"I guess."

Another laugh interrupted by few coughs. "And what about you? A student here?"

"I _teach_ here."

"That's awesome." The man gaped naively. "You look so young you'd be easily mistaken for a student. So it's _sensei_ , then? I'm sure sensei is also the popular type. You see, you look quite like those models on TV. Your girlfriend must be very possessive-"

"Daaad! What the hell are you talking about?" Tsuna appeared suddenly, glowering at his father. He bowed apologetically before Squalo, just like a servant waiting for his punishment. "I'm sorry, Squalo-sensei. I'm sooo sorry for my father's disturbing you…" It was the second time Tsuna found himself involved in a weird situation with the deadly silverette, and this time because of his _own_ father. The boy pulled at the older man's tie, forced him to get on his feet then whispered in the latter's ear, "what are you thinking about? He's one of my professors here!" The boy's voice got lower and more petrified. "Plus he's… he's…"

He's Xanxus' current 'woman'? Ieyasu was conscious of that, otherwise he wouldn't have been there in the first place. However, after all those years he'd been working for the tanned man, if someone had told him _that_ Xanxus was dating a man, he would have laughed out loud in disbelief. But the facts were there, and he couldn't deny them. To tell the truth, it was the first time the raven had something close to a relationship in his long life and, if the man's late father wouldn't have dreamt for anything better for his son, it wasn't exactly what they needed at the moment.

Not when VR Co. was at such a critical point in its extension. The company could afford having their CEO fooling around with random whores and disappearing now and then in times of peace. But Ieyasu actually remained confused when the raven suddenly called him the same morning to tell him to take care of the Danish matter _without_ him. No, did Xanxus really tell him that? He was a womanizer, a gambler, a drunkard and a soon-to-be serial killer, the older man perfectly knew that, but ignoring a deal of two billion dollars to run after a crush (fortunately, the young CEO finally agreed to go to work, after many a pleading and threatening), even for a romantic man like Ieyasu, it was a bit too much – mostly when considering the fact the raven had never particularly been a great Romeo. Just what kind of a person was the silverette for accomplishing such a wonder? That only one person could have that level of influence on Xanxus wasn't necessarily a good thing for them.

"And I already told you I have something to do this afternoon!" Tsuna whispered. "I can't go with you."

"Come on! Can't you spend some time with your old father? Kids those days are so ungrateful…"

"I really can't! I've got something planned for months. And I'm sure you too have some work to do! I can't believe they let you have an entire afternoon free."

Sawada Ieyasu couldn't tell his son he was actually at work now – even less that Tsuna was only a pretext for him to approach the silver head.

As he looked closer at the silver haired man sitting in front of them, the older man could understand the raven's infatuation to him. No matter how they looked at it, the guy simply _wasn't_ a random whore; he didn't have the look or the _brain_ of one. Somewhat, Ieyasu started asking himself how someone like the silverette could become attached to his good-for-nothing of a boss.

"Voooi," Squalo finally got annoyed, "if you're over, old man, get lost you and your shitty kid."

"We're leaving, sensei! Let's go, dad."

Tsuna pulled impatiently at Ieyasu's sleeve. The older man, though, didn't move. "Aa-ah. Wait. My son is often talking about you at home. (Tsuna, whispering, "What the hell? When did I do that?") Looks like he's really admiring you, sensei. You're just like a hero for him. ("The hell! I've never said that once in my life!") So how about we treat you to dinner? We were about to have lunch in a nearby restaurant anyway, and you don't seem busy right now, do you?"

Tsuna looked at Ieyasu as a son would look at the father who had just betrayed him. Squalo was staring at them as though he was pondering the proposition in his head. He finally agreed and followed both Sawadas.

…

"Aaa! Mmh… Coming… Xanxus!" The woman screamed and collapsed on top of him. They were both covered with different body fluids, but the raven could tell the hot and sticky liquid dripping on his hips and thighs wasn't just sweat. The brunette (the woman had long and curly brown hair) was breathing heavily on the tanned and muscular chest, her huge breasts alternatively increasing and decreasing their pressure on it.

Xanxus didn't hate that sensation. The woman's (was her name Dannah or Hannah or Tinah again) were particularly soft and voluptuous. The raven didn't stop cupping and plumping them when they were fucking. Xanxus couldn't even recall why he had started to be afraid of… Well. Of not being as touched by the charm of a pair of boobs as before.

And it had been like this for the last few days: almost one week of total drinking, ass-kicking and debauchery in the most luxurious suite of one of the most expensive hotel of Barcelona. The guy they had to deal with, the old Daulay, indeed had a decent house in Copenhagen, but Xanxus just couldn't picture a northern country with his (very ignorable) cold. No way anything was going to begin before Xanxus got what he desired.

So Barcelona it had to be. Even if the business trip only turned out to be a continual parade of bars, casinos and street walkers of all sorts.

"Xanxus baby, you were so~ great." The brunette shifted to kiss the raven's shoulders then fell asleep next to him. Xanxus rose a little so that he was sitting in the bed. He reached for a cigar on the nightstand, lit it up and inhaled the rich perfume of it. Before him, he could see the seaport town through a huge bay window. In the night, it was glistening with thousands and thousands of minuscule lights similar to the stars shining in the estival sky, making Barcelona look like a gigantic summer wreath.

The raven was watching at the spectacle with indifferent eyes. Only one exhalation and everything – the sea, the sky, the room and the sleeping woman – everything got covered with a lungful of white smoke. Beauty as well as depravity could grow to be something truly boring in the end. As the smoke dissipated in the air, the curves of the woman became more distinct. She was turning her back to the raven. Somehow, the sight reminded him of a slightly different one, the back of some stupid silver haired trash he had left almost one week earlier.

The man had been still, sleeping soundly in the smaller bed of that smaller room. The hair, of course, was totally different. The other idiot's was longer, obviously clearer, and smelled so good when Xanxus would nuzzle in it. Squalo also had a beauty spot, right at the back of his left ear. The raven found it kind of cute. Kind of. But on that shitty whore's ear, no beauty spot. That detail annoyed the tanned man. Not only that. Suddenly, the entire existence of the whore was upsetting him. His expression darkened drastically and, as if it had been the most natural act to do, Xanxus crushed the burning tip of his cigar against the woman's back. It stirred her awake and made her shout with panic. She fell on the ground.

"Hey, are you mad?" She asked indignantly with tears in her eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch." Xanxus glared disdainfully at her. "Hurry pick up your shit and get out."

The woman did as she was told and left, her beautiful face washed in tears, while cussing heinously at the raven. The latter wasn't even listening.

What happened the day after, though, had the virtue to send him in an abysmal mood.

People knew better than accosting him without a good reason. Yet, he had to make a little effort for the meeting that was going to take place with Daulay and his men. It was one of the many, many meetings they already had with that old fart (those were Xanxus' words) and at the end of which Daulay would always come up with a negative answer for VR Co.'s representatives. That was precisely why Xanxus had to get over with his wandering and personally take care of the case.

The meeting with the Danish – which had been constantly postponed for days now – had to take place at 10a.m in a neutral zone: a rather common building near the port, not far from the _plaza de Cataluña_. Xanxus arrived at 13p.m. At 15, Daulay wasn't there yet. Something really scary with the raven was his attitude when he was particularly pissed off. He would say nothing, would do nothing… not until his bottle of scotch got emptied. So no wonder why nameless servants would silently replace his booze every time the liquor's level seemed to go dangerously low.

At 16p.m, the door opening to the warehouse/meeting room opened wide, showing a line of men in black suits and attaché cases with, at their head, a man with long, green hair tied up in a ponytail. Nothing was specifically differencing that man from the others, except from the satisfied smirk stretching his lips. Only then did one of Xanxus' footmen came to whisper something in his boss' ear.

"What do you mean with your blabbering?" The raven raised his chin and glared at the green head standing at the other side of the meeting table. "That scum isn't going to show up?"

Kikyo cleared his throat and smiled remorsefully. "I'm truly sorry, sir. But since my master is actually the one dealing with Mr. Daulay, the latter agreed to send me on his behalf."

Xanxus threw at the green haired male a half emptied glass of whisky Kikyo easily dodged. "Don't fuck with me, trash. It's that doddering ass who told us to meet with him. Now, said ass is telling _me_ he won't be coming? Huh. You all must be having a death wish."

A bow. "My master is sincerely sorry for the inconveniences this sudden change is bringing to you, sir. But, as I told you, I'm here on Mr. Daulay's behalf. I've already been informed of every detail of this affair, and I'm sure I can deal with any of your exigencies."

'Any of my exigencies? Stop talking bullshit.' Xanxus wanted to hiss at the smartass. The old Daulay showed up the previous days only for the other side to gather information they needed to get prepared for that day. Once their puppet ready, the old shit didn't have any reason to come anymore. And he, Xanxus, didn't see _anything_ coming.

He grimaced. So the old fart chose _them_ as their final purchaser. For years, they had been targeting the Danish company and its affiliates all over the world. They bribed, they broke few bones and attended to many 'accidents' in order to take a total control on the Danish. But maybe was that a simple antipathy the old man had grown against Xanxus, but the idiot firmly refused any offer VR Co. had proposed in order to buy them.

Consequently for now, _they_ were going to shield Daulay's lousy ass from him. Very well. What he needed to get rid of was the smartass' 'master' instead. Nonetheless, the Danish company's accounts were in such a dejected state it was almost impossible for a normal firm to buy it without risking their own head in the deal. Only a company as strong as VR Co. could have succeeded such a feat of strength. A big fish. Asses got to be kicked, once he would be back from that trip, for not being able to spot that shit on time.

"Trash. Your master's name. Right now."

Kikyo laughed lightly. "This only I can't tell. I think you can understand this, sir."

"This is pure shit. I'm not going to lose my time talking with damn lackeys." Xanxus got up (let's emphasize on this: without wobbling at all in spite of all the alcohol currently mixed with his blood), his bloody orbs glowering threateningly at the green head. "Anyway, I'm not going to play hide-and-seek with an old ass. I'll see your damn master's sorry face next week, you scum. I am _not_ withdrawing from the deal, by no means."

Xanxus was over with that day's stress. After yelling and swearing like a possessed on the phone and at the entire hotel's staff, he embarked on the private jet waiting specially for him. Few hours later, he was back in Namimori. But what he didn't expect was that that day's annoyance was still far from being over.

TBC


	7. Why you should always keep your pants on

So dear friend and XS shippers, i finally decided topost this story once a week. I firstly had a planned calendar of publishing but lastly i couldn't follow it at all so a lot of chapters were delayed even if i have to finish this story this year. So... instead of twice a month, it's once a week...

OH! and don't miss next week chapter! 10/10! 10/10!

And also thnak you very much for the reviews so far. I was very sad cause i couldn't leave a reply so i thank you here. Arigatou gozaimasu~ (_ _)

* * *

Nope, that day's annoyance was still far from being over. Far from it.

The home journey to Japan had lasted long since, on the road, the tanned man had to make a special stop in Italy, more exactly in Sicilia. Ordinarily, Xanxus would never ever think about going by the family house when he was on a business trip. Or on any other trip. Xanxus simply wasn't a very family-type guy.

The raven's earlier life could be resumed in one word: a revolt. Revolt against his biological father, a man who taught his boy nothing but violence and neglect that soon drove the boy's mother to madness. Revolt against a life of misery and privation.

And the man who saved the younger Xanxus from an early death was the soft-hearted Timotheo, the previous leader of VR Co. Years ago, he adopted an eight years old wretched and bruised boy, gave him a home and the best education one could ever dream of, then made of him the only successor of his empire. But maybe, in the end, scars from the past _do_ never heal, because Xanxus never accepted Timotheo as a father or even as a friend, neither did he accept the path the old man had chosen for him. It wasn't as if the younger raven had a precise idea what he was going to do with his life, though.

This last kind of revolt for him mostly consisted into drinking and constant running away from home. No one found it surprising to see the young Xanxus growing into an _homme à femmes_ , a violent and unscrupulous businessman who would make enemies as easily as he would make money; in short a man people were afraid of.

The old Timotheo was in dismay, and he must have brought all those regrets in his grave. But even for the funeral, everyone had to force Xanxus to attend it. So that was with an un-hidden surprise that the old and prestigious mansion of Vongola welcomed the young heir, after almost ten years of not coming back.

Xanxus himself couldn't tell where that sudden wish to see the house he had been raised in had come from. He wasn't old enough to be nostalgic (he was barely thirty-four) and he was pretty sure no one wanted to see his face after the scandal he had made at Timotheo's burial. Still, seeing the ancient furniture of the mansion, the familiar rooms with their familiar, respective scents Xanxus had learnt by heart in his childhood, the office where Timotheo used to shut in for hours for work… And then the timeworn stone of the old man's grave, seeing all of those stirred a serene yet melancholic feeling in the raven's chest.

On the stone were engraved, very humbly, the words: "Here lies a father."

…

After a trip more than 8,000 miles long, it was already dark in the night when the jet landed in Tokyo. In the limousine, Xanxus was asked if he had a particular choice of direction in mind.

"Namimori." Had been the first word that crossed the raven's thoughts, but at first he hesitated to utter it. That infatuation to the silver haired trash was starting to become truly morbid, even he could tell. But the raven was tired and didn't want to think much.

"To the usual place." He ordered.

The car set in motion and, few hours later, the tanned man could spot behind the window pane the houses and landscape he got accustomed to see, which were contrasting drastically with the lights and crowded streets of the capital. The silverette's building came into view. The limousine stopped right in front of it, then the door opened to let the raven get out.

Xanxus didn't lose his time calling for the porter and immediately walked to the elevator – only then remembering it was out of order. So he had to take the stairs, and cursed in his inner-self as he recalled the stupid scum's flat was on the sixth floor (and this time he didn't have a wet and gorgeous silver haired trash to cheer him to walk faster). At the third floor, Xanxus' breathing had grown laborious, and he had more and more trouble to inhale air.

'Maybe I should stop smoking…' He thought bitterly, out of breath.

Few minutes and a lot of cursing later, Xanxus was at Squalo's doorstep. He opened the door (he had always got spare keys) and entered the living room as silently as a cat while getting rid of his clothes. When he arrived in the bedroom, he only had his underwear on. Spotting the long haired man asleep under a blanket, he got on the bed on top of Squalo and was about to do some indecent things to the latter when he heard a voice rising unexpectedly from the darkness,

"Who the hell are you?" A teenager boy with thick blond hair hiding half of his face, wearing a pajama and a tiara, inquired. He was holding a glass of milk in his hand.

Xanxus glared at the intruder, bewildered. "No, who the hell are _you_ , dumbshit?"

"I live here." The boy replied, then grinned. "So you're this idiot peasant's lover."

"I'm not, you scum. I'm just…"

At that moment, Xanxus silenced. What was he to the silverette exactly? Squalo's lover, a boyfriend, a sex friend? All of those labels were sickening Xanxus to no hell. Of course he wasn't. His situation was more akin to… an owner? That sounded stupid. And the fact of being in his underwear, ready to assault his "possession", in front of a kid he didn't even know was even much stupider.

"Get lost, shitty brat." Xanxus barked. "I don't have to explain myself in front of lousy shits like you…"

He turned back to the brat to look at Squalo – who was now ogling half with incomprehension, half with anger at the naked tanned man towering him. "Voi…What on… Voooooi!" The silver haired man swiftly backed away from the raven and lit a nightlight on. His face was slightly flushed, Xanxus couldn't help but notice (and also find sort of cute). "What are you doing here in the middle of the night? And where the hell are your damn clothes?"

"Shishishi. Squalo is gonna get raped~"

"Bel, you shut up! I also told you not to sneak in here, didn't I?"

"Buuut the couch is too small. You should sleep there instead."

"I won't! _You_ 're the parasite here, not me. And Xanxus, the fuck, get out of my bed!"

There had been a lot of ranting, that night. In spite of the anger due both to the lack of sleep and the nth attempt of rape from the raven, Squalo somehow clarified the situation they were in: Belphegor was a kid ("I'm not a kid. Call me your Excellency.") Squalo had to care of many years ago altogether with his twin brother, in his college time. They were something like the sons of a rich nobleman and the silverette was supposed to be their tutor. 'Supposed to be' was the exact expression since all Squalo did back then was to prevent the twins from slaughtering each other. That day, too, they had a fight, and like every time they did, if he couldn't rapidly kill his brother, Bel would always run away from home and the silverette was always given the job of looking for him. This time it had been quite easy, though: he found out Squalo's new house and hid himself there. The long haired man obviously tried to kick him out, but in vain. The couch turned into the prince's new bedroom.

"I don't give a fuck about your shitty life, you trash." Xanxus yanked painfully at Squalo's hair once the explanation done. "Get that brat out and let me fuck you. Now."

"That's unfair." Bel insisted. "You two are going to use the bed and I'm the only one who has to put up with the couch."

"We're _not_." Squalo pulled his hair back. "At least, you damn bastard are not."

"Huh? So where do you want me to sleep?"

Squalo looked coldly at Xanxus. That look annoyed the raven. "You can sleep wherever you want. It doesn't have to be here, does it?"

Strangely, the atmosphere around them got heavy. They remained silent for a long time, both men glowering at each other, until a sudden growl resounded in the room. It had come from Xanxus' stomach. Only then did he remembered he hadn't have dinner yet since he left Sicilia. The hardness in the silver orbs somehow softened. He sighed and got up.

"Where are you going?" Xanxus asked.

"In the kitchen." Squalo replied whilst chucking a dressing-gown on the bed. "Or I can let you starve to death if you want."

In less than five minutes, the silverette's fridge found itself robbed of its content. When Xanxus left more than one week ago, Squalo didn't have the slightest idea what to do of all the provisions he had made for the raven, but with Bel who arrived few days after and turned out to be impossible to get rid of, the problem more or less got solved by itself.

Willy-nilly, both Xanxus and Bel took place at the kitchen's table while Squalo was bustling about the microwave and stove. Fortunately, there were leftovers from the lunch: that day it was toad-in-the-hole and buckle.

The raven would always get enthralled by the sight of a cooking Squalo. His presence in the kitchen looked absolutely normal, as though it was a natural part in a man's life to spend his time amongst casseroles and knives. He could easily picture the silverette taking care of two brats, teaching and feeding them. Was he the type to nurse kids? Perhaps. Anyway he would never know.

"You know, Squalo's very good at that." Bel said out of the blue, as if he had guessed the raven's thoughts. He was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Xanxus raised an eyebrow. "At what? For me he looks like a real scumbag."

"Voi… I can hear you…"

Bel resumed. "The peasant Squalo had practically raised us alone. He wasn't very good at telling bedtime stories, and at first the food was the worst."

"Kiddo, it happened only once." Squalo glared threateningly at Bel. "I burnt the cake only once, for God's sake. And you should thank me for cooking for you, back then. Your crazy mother was one of those who believe in not feeding their offspring but only twice a day. I'm sure that's where that damage in both Raziel's and your brain comes from. When I began teaching at your house, you and your brother were so skinny I thought you were half your age!"

"Shishishi. It was funny, how you would sneak in our bedroom at night and bring us candies and pies."

"That's why I say you two should thank me. So… how are we splitting the bed?" That was the tender spot.

"That's quite simple." Xanxus spoke. "You shitty scum (he was talking about Bel) take the couch."

Squalo opened his eyes wide. He wasn't stupid enough not to smell something fishy in the deal. "Wait a minute. Why don't you two sleep in the bed and I take the couch?"

"Fuck no." Xanxus and Bel said in the most seriously tone in the world.

Squalo rubbed his temple. "In that case… You (Xanxus) can sleep in the couch. You've always done so ("Ah~ I was right! He's been living here before…"), it shouldn't disturb you that much."

Bel beamed. "Shishi! So I get to sleep alone in the bed!"

"Voi, I'm sleeping with you (Bel)."

"Heee."

"No way in hell, shitty trash."

But in the end, they had to agree on that option. Neither Belphegor nor Xanxus was particularly happy about it, but everyone was asleep so Squalo won.

Once the late dinner over, Bel strolled lazily to the bedroom, leaving both adults in the kitchen, Squalo putting the dishes in the dishwasher and Xanxus snoozing lightly, still sitting on the stool. Squalo's voice woke him up.

"Voi, Xanxus. You should go to sleep already. I don't want to see you fall on the ground like last time."

"Mmh."

Seeing the raven was going to ignore his advice, he heaved a resigned sigh and was about to go to the bedroom but stopped and went back to Xanxus. Then, with the softness of a feather, he rested the back of a hand on the tanned forehead while the other one was on his own forehead.

The move had been totally unexpected and Xanxus felt pretty dumb seeing Squalo taking his temperature; yet he didn't budge. The silver head trash's hand was cold. It felt good against his skin.

"Scum… I'm not sick anymore. And I don't need you to worry about me. I'm not a kid."

"Considering your behavior, I'm pretty sure you are. Well, everything seems okay…"

Yes, everything did seem all right, Xanxus thought. This kind of comfort, he didn't even remember when was the last time he felt it. Xanxus wouldn't even find it weird to hear the silverette telling him 'child, be still'. The smaller man was as usual brash and straightforward, uncaring of what people (and Xanxus) would think of him acting like this. But the tanned man liked him that way.

He leaned on the presented hand and, slowly, got closer to the silverette; close enough to hear his breathing against his forehead and the silkiness of the silver mane caressing his cheek. Squalo wasn't moving. Was he waiting for the raven to make a move? Leisurely, Xanxus placed a kiss on Squalo's collarbone. First one, two light kisses, but after more passionate ones. The raven pushed the smaller man against the table, his hands holding steadily Squalo's thin arms.

Almost imperceptible pants were drawn from the silverette's mouth as Xanxus licked and sucked avidly at his neck. He wasn't being pushed back, that meant Squalo wanted it as badly as him, didn't it?

How could Xanxus simply resist that body? Not when it was promising so much bliss and pleasure. And he knew Squalo wouldn't refuse that to him. The silverette's senses had subdued to him, the raven didn't need anything else. No matter how many times he had sex with other women, he couldn't forget Squalo's sensation on him – the man's taste, his warmth, his body itself. And if said body had to haunt him to the other side of the world, he'd better have it and take it now that Xanxus could do so.

Fiery ruby orbs went to study greyish ones – glimmering and aroused ones. He smirked. "You've been waiting for me, haven't you?"

"Mmh… Why would I be waiting for… an asshole like you… Ha…"

"Humph. Big liar. Look at your face." He bit at the sensitive flesh. Squalo whined. "You wanted to be fucked by me. Do you remember how you felt down there when I shoved my dick in you? It was damn hot and tight. And fucking sensitive. You felt it so much it could make you hard."

Without a warning, Xanxus swiftly slipped his hand in the silverette's pants and grabbed the shaft in his boxer. Squalo started and accidentally elbowed the stool beside him. At that noise, they heard Bel shifting in his sleep.

"Voi… Stop that, Xanxus." Squalo finally broke their embrace. "He can hear us."

Frustrated, Xanxus paused. "You piece of trash. So you're telling me to wait for that dim-witted brat to leave?"

"Not as if we could do anything in those conditions!"

Xanxus glared at him. That constant rebuff from the silverette was getting tiresome, and Xanxus wasn't used to have anyone – whether they were men or women – refusing him anything. As a matter of fact, he was the exact portrait of a man who had made fortune in oil: he was arrogant and always managed to get what he wanted.

But for now, the haughty and odiously loaded young master who used to get Mustangs and Corvettes at his anniversaries was nowhere to be found.

"You'd better not forget where we left tonight." He hissed angrily at the silverette.

He then let go of him and went to sleep, alone and grumpy, in his old couch.

TBC


	8. Why you should always keep your promises

PHEW i thought i wouldn't post this chapter in time. I'M SOOO SOO SORRY PEOPLE. I've been really sick since last week and i could barely type few words a day. Initially i wanted to post something wednesday then the birthday fic today, but in the end it ended up like this... Very sorry (_ _)

But i still have the idea of the birthday fic in my mind so i think i'll write it anyway, but in slightly different contexts, just...

Please enjoy T.T

* * *

That week had been pretty busy and tiresome for the silverette. That was because, now, there wasn't just _one_ spoiled brat to take care of, but fucking _two_ of them. Between his work and his home, Squalo had absolutely no time to sit down and take a breath.

Principally since it had been the exam session. There had been papers to grade, stupidities to read and see… and also some idiot who wrote somewhere in his essay something like 'bacteria can't eat people because we are too big to be eaten' (Squalo is teaching biology. Yes. A _squalo_ ). And then, back at home he would have 'Squalo, there's no more milk', 'Trash, where's the dinner' and 'Why the hell is there milk in the dinner' and 'Squalo…'.

"Vooooi! I'm fucking tired of your shit so fuck up- I mean… Shut off- Shut. Up!" He broke when the week end came, altogether with the headache and the risk of vein popping.

Friday, it all came like a whirlwind. The silver haired man pushed the door like every evening, back from Namimori U. It was already late. The first thing he saw: distraught and zombie airs of idle proslavers watching TV as though their lives depended on it. Those idiots squatting his living-room… Just what the fuck had they been doing for the whole day? The house was a ditch and he was damn tired… He had tried to keep it clean from their shit for days! The silverette felt the heat in his blood rising, he felt the clash was imminent. He wasn't a motherfucking housekeeper and those damn idiots were simply pure brats!

Bel was sitting upside down in an armchair in front of the screen, head down and feet on the back of the seat. "Stupid Squalo~ You should transplant a new brain in your skull 'cause yours doesn't seem to-"

"Shut the fuck up!" The silverette barked and threw his bag to the boy, who easily dodged it. "And get out of my house."

"Ouch! You're a bully!" Bel sang sarcastically while running and pirouetting like a madman around the kitchen table, his arms waving frantically around his head. "He broke my arm! Call the ambulance, the police, the mortuary! Shishishi!"

Xanxus could hear nothing. He was in a semi-comatose state, dead drunk in the couch.

That was a very happy and cheerful scene indeed, worthy of the Step by Step show.

But one way or another, just like in the serial when the main characters somehow started disappearing one after the other (and this, Squalo welcomed it with praise of thankfulness to the Lord), those idle days had to come to an end for Belphegor: he just received a call from his house biding him to go back home at once if he still wanted to be part of their family.

"Shishi." The blond grinned bitterly when he hung up. "One day I'll kill them for sure."

"Voi, don't say that. They're your family, no matter what you say."

A sigh. "Yeah. That's exactly the problem."

Squalo wasn't an inhuman guy. He wasn't that glad to see Bel coming back to his house; he knew exactly what was waiting for the boy there. The blond didn't talk or laugh much after that. The ambiance in the apartment became silent again – but in parallel, that silence allowed the raven to come back from his lethargy again since he didn't have to drink anymore to put up with the silver haired man yelling after the brat. So that was with eyes more or less cleared from the usual hazy shroud that he saw, the next day, Squalo ruffling the blond mane of the boy who was standing in the landing, face grave and hands in his pockets.

"And stop making that face, you dumb brat." Squalo scolded. "You're just going home. You don't have to look as if you were off for your own funeral."

"What if it's true? You'll have to buy me an ice cream. With chocolate. And pistachio. And nougatine. And also- ouch!"

As the kid's requests grew more numerous, the ruffling grew from cheering to aggressive. "Don't get cocky. You haven't forgotten anything, have you?" Useless question: apart from his phone, Bel didn't bring anything in his run away, and everything he had used the last few days, Squalo had bought them for him. Now Bel's possessions summed up into a rucksack in which clothes, toothpaste and video games were piling up in a disconcerting confusion.

"Naah. All your peasant stuffs are all in your peasant bag. So… Bye."

Bel didn't say anything else and turned tail to the silverette on his door-step. The latter didn't have the slightest idea how the boy managed to find him nor how he got to that place, neither did he know how Bel was going to go back. More exactly, Squalo knew how (he had to call for a cab; that kid really didn't exactly live on the doorstep), but that was more what kind of lie he would have to lull his parents with. But did he still have to think about that? It wasn't as though he still was in charge of the boy's education or anything…

Yet the silver head wasn't left much time to worry about his ancient pupil as callous hands trailed around his waist, barely one second after Bel was out of sight.

"Voi, Xanxus…" He heaved a sigh of irritation. Xanxus was slowly embracing him from behind; he rested his chin on the smaller man's shoulder. "It still hadn't gone clear out of your mind yet, had it…"

"Shut it." Xanxus said in a tone that admitted no reply. "Your promise, trash. You said we'll have sex when the brat is gone."

"I've never said that!" Squalo got indignant and rapidly closed the entrance door.

"Yes, you have." And as though to put a stop to a discussion he deemed not fit for him, the raven bit at the silverette's neck, making him moan very softly. "Can you hear your voice? You're practically begging me to fuck you."

Squalo frowned. His body was betraying him; he wasn't in position of control and he sure hated that. "You damn prick… At least can't you wait a little…"

"I won't." The tanned man trailed a thick and wet tongue on the silverette's neck whilst unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt. Soon the latter felt a bulge rubbing against his bottom. The silver head had to lean against the wall next to him not to fall under the taller man's weight.

That was when the door opened up again. Both men froze when Bel appeared behind it. At the sight of the long haired man leaning on the wall, clothes undone and with a dude hugging him, the boy, anyhow, didn't say anything. He just stared at the weird couple for few seconds, swiftly went to fetch his headphones in the living-room, and then got out (but not without grinning sarcastically at Squalo before he did so).

"Voi… Perhaps we should go to the bed instead." Squalo stated somberly.

"Che. Don't forget to lock the door this time."

…

"Xanxus… Xanxus, stop playing with… Aa!" Squalo whined softly.

He was naked, lying on the mattress, hands gripping hard at the pillow behind his head. An indecent quantity of silvery hair was flowing everywhere on the sheets, as though they were trying to cover them entirely. His legs were opened wide to let the raven bend between them. Xanxus didn't seem that disturbed by the sight of the naked body of a man as he kept on licking and suckling at his tortured nipples till they were fully red and erected. The flushed and writhing silverette, beneath him, was already completely hard and arching his back lustfully with every caress. He would have never believe that one day a man would pleasure him that way – and even less that he would respond so easily, so eagerly to his touch…

"Fucking scum." Xanxus suddenly glared at him. "Stop making that sound."

And how could he? Before that day, he didn't even know he could utter such moans and pants. Squalo could feel his shaft twitching every time Xanxus' red appendage darted from between thickly sensual lips and went to wet one lush rosy tip. He whined again.

"You trash… Does _that_ (he emphasized on that word by tugging harshly at both buds with his fingers) feel that good?" Squalo answered by squirming more desperately on the bed, his cheeks now a deep shade of red, and stroking his leg on Xanxus' thigh. The raven smirked. "Humph. You truly are a bitch. Your whole body is made to pleasure a man. How could you even satisfy a woman before?"

Squalo was about to curse but remained quiet when he heard a zip sound: Xanxus was opening his trousers. When that gigantic pole of hard and blood-flushed muscles of his came into view, though, the silverette tried to push him back. "Wait, Xanxus. It's not… Um… This is…"

"What? What _again_?" Xanxus pulled painfully at silvery locks. They had gone that far already, what was the trash still afraid about?

"The drawer." He said as if it was that obvious and pointed at the nightstand. Within an ace of hitting the silverette for rejecting him, Xanxus however complied and reached for the piece of furniture. After opening it, he pulled out a little plastic bottle. The content left no room for doubts.

"Lube?" He smirked mockingly, which made the silver head glower at him.

"What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing." He nibbled at Squalo's earlobe. "Have you bought it after we did it last time? So you wanted to do it after all."

Squalo wanted to retort, but after all there was no sense grinding on it. And what would have he said? He couldn't deny the fact he actually felt good being taken by the raven, even if it sure had hurt when he put it in. Of course it had nothing to do with sex with a woman; even if in the end it was a matter of sexual relief, sex with a man – sex with Xanxus – was way more oppressing, overwhelming, excruciating… In short everything the silverette had always loved in swordsmanship.

So yes, _maybe_ he had wanted to do it with the taller man again. Yes, _maybe_ he had bought the damn lube for that, albeit he had never been sure Xanxus would actually come back to him. Squalo clenched a fist and hit the latter's chest with it, a playful leer on his features. His voice became softer.

"It seems you think the world is only fucking revolving around you. Voi, maybe I wanted to use it with someone else, perhaps with a nice and delicate girl who won't strangle me to death because of her screwed brain, or even another man…" As he talked, the silverette's fingers were faintly tracing the pattern of the raven's muscular body, pacing idly on the chiseled collarbone, circling the well-shaped shoulders, then going lower and lower until they reached Xanxus' trousers.

The latter replied to the provocation with a threatening glare. He had dealt with a lot of women in his life; there had been ignorant sluts, beautiful and rich heirs, futile wives, ambitious and arrogant doctors, lawyers, and other wiseasses who farted higher than their asses… Well, a lot of women. But no matter what one would blabber about emancipation and independence of women, Xanxus didn't believe in it. He had seen enough bitches going into hysterics and wailing their love at his feet to ascertain his opinion.

But this time it was a man, and things were utterly different. Xanxus didn't know if he should take that threat as a joke or an _actual_ threat. Somehow, in his bloody guts, he knew Squalo wouldn't have any trouble getting in anyone's pants, yet he had never seen him dating anyone in the past. Did that make of him someone special for the silver haired man? Thinking about that was frustrating.

That silver haired trash was making him uneasy, and that was frustrating. His fingers suddenly plunged in him, eliciting a yelp from the silverette.

That night would be the second time he was getting fucked by a man, still the silverette's ass was as tight as though he had never been done before. And Hell that was damn hot. Xanxus was fed up of those whores who had started screwing at twelve and were all fucked out by the time they were twenty. On the other hand ingenuous virgins were simply a no-no. He didn't want a stupid chick to get startled and cry only at the sight of a dick.

But that scum, that Squalo… Goddamnit, Xanxus could tell he really liked to fuck.

"You'd better keep in mind who you're fucking talking to, you damn dickhead." Xanxus hissed and smacked Squalo's hands away. "Just lie there and moan."

And moan did the silverette do when the fingers dug further. They were slick and hard, gliding easily in the tight tunnel. Squalo gripped at Xanxus' steady arm and tilted his head backward while panting louder and louder, his toes curling without him even noticing. Something was igniting inside of him and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Xanxus… Mmh-aa…" He whined. "Fingers… your fingers… put them out!"

"Like hell." Xanxus spat. "Spread your legs."

Creamy thighs were parted with forcefulness. Squalo's eyes widened when he felt Xanxus' hardness pressing against his groin; a sigh went past his lips as the raven added more fingers in his entrance. He was fully hard now, and making a face so hot the tanned man couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Trash, let's live together." He said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Squalo frowned, "V-voi… Why are you talking… Ngh! About that now…" Xanxus didn't answer. He just pushed his engorged flesh in the smaller man, hard and fast, not letting the silverette a second to breathe. "Haa! Xanxus!..."

That night, none of them slept that much.

…

Virginia Woolf said something like what is expected from the one you're living with is to maintain you at the highest level of yourself. She wasn't wrong. Since he started living with the silverette, the raven had to admit his look got slightly better. Well, what I mean is that the period he used to wake up on the floor in his own vomit after a night of debauchery was surely over. The probabilities he would drown in his bath also decreased since there was always someone to keep his head out of the water when he was smashed (if not practically bathing him entirely). And many other little services one could ask from "the one you're living with".

Never before that did Xanxus have something akin to a life as a couple, yet he strangely grew accustomed to it quite easily. Maybe the main reason of it was that nothing in particular actually changed between them before and after. As a matter of fact, the only detail who had changed was Xanxus sleeping in a bed – Squalo's bed – instead of a couch.

But if you put that aside, you'd get exactly the same thing as before. That is, in the morning, Squalo getting prepared for work; leaving only the lunch to heat because he knew too well the taller man wouldn't wake up before noon; coming back from work and cleaning all the mess Xanxus would have made in the apartment; then they would watch TV, have dinner, fuck once or twice, watch TV again and go to sleep.

You see? Nothing that great at the end of the day.

"Xanxus…" Ieyasu couldn't hide his tears. He was tapping anxiously Xanxus' back. "I'm so relieved you finally found someone who can love you!"

There in the usual bar, he had listened to the whole boring and dreary story with the teary eyes of a father who had found hope again in his son. The raven couldn't stand the old man's effusions of feelings. He had put up with them only because it was a pain to find people who knew about the company's business and who didn't want him dead for the sake of said company. At least not now.

"Get over with that, old geezer." Xanxus grimaced. "It's not something that grandiose."

The old blond shook vehemently his head. "No, no, no. When you're your age and you still can't find someone to share your life, you can start worrying about your future. I saw you grow up and collect women as if they were toys in your hands, and now!... It's so sad to die as a bachelor; no wife, no kid, no one to welcome you at home…"

"Yeah, like you." The raven said and took a sip of vodka.

"That's wrong. I _do_ have a family, we're just… living in different houses, that's all…"

"Humph. Bullshit."

Ieyasu frowned at the younger man and poured whisky in a glass. "You know, Xanxus. Having relationship is never very easy for people like us. The job is constraining. You don't know when you have to leave to sign a contract at the other side of the world neither when you can come back, your lover ("We're not fucking lovers.") has to be pretty patient and all… Don't laugh at me!" He added furiously as he noticed a lopsided smile stretching Xanxus' lips. "I went through that, I know that perfectly. Remember what I say: it may be a piece of cake to fish a nice lover, but if you don't know how to keep them, they'll leave you like they would leave a plague victim and replace you with someone better than you. And you, Xanxus, believe me: it's not that hard to find better than you!…Um? Where are you going?"

Xanxus had got on his feet and was about to leave. "I'm not staying here listening to your driveling anymore. Next time you'd better have pertinent information about the Danish case."

The officious meeting was over for the raven.

Just what did that old man wanted to tell him? Teach him from his own failures? How ridiculous. The silver haired trash was indeed a good fuck, that meant nothing more. Lately he was just too lazy to chase after asses, so it was convenient to have the long haired idiot within reach. And the raven wasn't the type to sing like a suitor some shit like ''Cause we're leaving in a world of fools breaking us down when they all should let us be, we belong to you and me.' So he was meditating while heading to the apartment.

Plus what they had couldn't possibly called a relationship. They could barely stand each other; Squalo was truly a pain in the ass, a damn loud-mouthed idiot and an incurable cleaning freak. Okay, the room could be kind of messy when he was left there alone for hours. But that wasn't _his_ fault. It was the silver haired trash's fault for leaving him with nothing else to do apart from watching TV.

The booze helping, Xanxus was ready to tell the silverette a few home truths , kicked the door of the apartment and looked around for silvery locks. He gaped when he caught sight of Squalo sitting on the floor, a bare foot brought up to shoulder-level. Someone, a man, was kneeling before him, holding it and massaging it in his hands. He was turning his back to Xanxus so the latter couldn't see the man's face from his spot. They were chatting happily (too happily in Xanxus' opinion) and barely started when the raven came in.

"Oh, you're already back." Squalo said without getting up. "I thought you'd be late. The dinner is on the table."

"Who is…" Xanxus started but silenced as the newcomer turned to look at him: it was that dumbass Cavallone.

The blond smiled at him. "Eee. What a surprise. So you knew each other?"

Squalo shrugged. "Well. More or less-"

"We're fucking living together." Xanxus cut tartly. "And you fucking get out of here, Cavallone."

TBC


	9. Why psychoanalyzis is a wonderful thing

I just got out from the dentist's and my teeth huuuurt.

* * *

Xanxus could practically hear the old man's words echoing in his ears.

" _He'll replace you with someone better. He'll replace you with someone better. He'll replace you with someone better_ …"

No, seriously, what could be that good about the Cavallone scum? Just because he wasn't as ugly as a pig meant nothing – well, in a more impartial opinion, the man was simply a piece of art in himself: tall and slender body, shiny blond hair, soft and dark eyes and stunning face… the Cavallone guy sure was matching the silverette's gorgeousness. But surely the fact that Dino and Squalo were childhood friends wasn't helping the raven at all. That was what the blond was explaining to Xanxus.

"Yes, we were almost inseparable. Do you remember, Squalo?" He said while looking alternatively at the silver haired man and the dark haired one. At that moment, Dino Cavallone had left his place on the ground and was sitting in an armchair in front of the incongruous couple. "Um, well… More exactly, he was more the one who would always look after me when I was in trouble. Even today…"

Xanxus grunted and started tapping a foot nervously on the carpet. Just what the fuck was that kind of situation? Why did he have to listen to some boring shit from some scumbag's life? No, really, he, Xanxus Vongola would _not_ listen. Though, if he had, this is what he would have heard.

That morning, Dino Cavallone was in a very deep worry: he was absolutely sure the girl he had been dating for more than a month was cheating on him with someone in the same company as her. At first, he didn't want to believe it – and it wasn't a matter of over-confidence like Xanxus. To tell the truth, unlike the raven and in spite of an incredible handsomeness combined with a wealth that could turn any Hollywood actor green of envy, the blond had never been a very self-assured of a person when it came to personal affairs. Clumsy and hesitant, he was more the type to let people come to him instead of coming to them. Women can smell those kinds of guys from miles, and most of time, if there isn't at least a lot of money and power involved (which is the case here), they'll never get close to them. But it seemed his girlfriend got tired of the blond, thus her cheating on him, thus Dino's worrying and finally finding out what's been going out.

So the young man was strolling miserably in the streets, sick at heart, when he met with Squalo in quite funny conditions.

"A car almost hit you?" Xanxus inquired, suddenly resuscitated.

"Aa, yeah, it's not that dramatic. The driver was on the phone. He didn't see the red light. At that moment, I was crossing the street and the provisions were blinding me. I didn't see the car coming…"

Xanxus glared at Dino. "So that trash saved you?"

"Not really…" Dino said apologetically. "Actually, I wanted to push Squalo away from the car (I didn't recognize him at that time. His hair sure has grown longer) but I slipped on the sidewalk and we fell together… Oh, fortunately the car deviated at the very last moment so we avoided the worst."

Squalo showed his now bandaged foot. "Yeah. I got out of this with a shitty sprain on my ankle."

It didn't matter to the raven that that foot got off of the leg, or even that the whole leg got cut off by a car, what Xanxus' brains actually remembered was the image of a trash-like Don Juan with his hands all over _his_ possession, and them almost making out in the middle of the street. What was truly irritating was the furtive yet obvious heavy stare the blond would from time to time cast to an oblivious Squalo. Just what the fuck was that? Had decency totally disappeared from their civilization? And why was the Cavallone still sitting there, in his (Squalo's) living, making googly eyes at the silver haired trash like nothing ever happened?

"And one thing leading to another I got here." Dino stated innocently. "But it's still awesome, isn't it, to see you (he was talking to Squalo) here after all this time. How have you been doing-"

"Cut that shit off, Cavallone." Xanxus finally crossed his legs and pulled a dumbfounded silverette's ass to him. "Now, whether you get out, whether you watch us fuck here in the c-"

"I'm leaving." Dino suddenly got up, a nervous air on his face. "Bye, Squalo!"

He then left in such a hurry he didn't even think about closing the door after him.

"Vooi, are you going mad? Why did you have to tell him that?" Squalo yelled indignantly and got up.

"Shut up, you bitch. And I don't want that scum to come around you anymore."

The silver haired man ogled at him with wide eyes half filled with anger, half with stupefaction. The cheeks were faintly flushed. "Just what the fuck are you… Oh, and get lost!"

"Where are you going?" Xanxus inquired sinisterly when he saw Squalo walking to the door, ready to leave.

"I just don't want that clumsy idiot to believe strange shits."

Even if he was in a hurry, Squalo hadn't forgotten to slam the door behind him. Fast enough to avoid the coffee table the raven kicked to him.

…

But Dino actually hadn't gone that far. Hardly did he take three steps in the staircase that his foot slipped (again), making him trundle like a hoop over five meters, then slumping on the landing of the fifth floor. This time, the blond couldn't find the strength to get on his feet again. Lying on his back, he was staring blankly at the ceiling, up there above his head.

He sighed. "So they live together." He murmured. "He's with that man. Does that mean Squalo loves him?..."

After all, back then, it was only a one-sided feeling. The blond knew it since the very first time. They hadn't seen each other for more than ten years, Dino thought the unrest he used to feel when he was near the silverette would have settled by now… Yet when he set his eyes on the same face, the same (no, slightly different) hair and caught that harsh tone in his ears, the agitation came back in waves. 'What is bred in the bone cannot come out of the flesh.' His father would always say.

Anyway, it was too late to try to come back to what they were in the past. That was because of his cowardice, Dino knew it perfectly, however… however, seeing the gorgeous silver haired man he was accustomed to talk to, to laugh and fight with now totally out of reach was kind of painful. Questions like "why him? Why couldn't it be me?" were whirling in his mind.

Dino's trail of thoughts paused and he somewhat sat up when he heard steps from the staircase. His heartbeat perceptibly grew faster when the young man spotted long and shiny hair coming closer.

"Voi, what are you fucking doing on the floor?"

"Nothing… I was waiting for you? Just kidding." He added very quickly. Never joke with Squalo. Never. "I'm happy for you."

"Huh? Why?"

"That's because… You seem doing well with Xanxus. How long has it been?"

It was the silverette's turn to sigh, but with exasperation. "I'm _not_ doing well with that bastard. He's just passing by. That's all."

Dino smiled. "That's why you came here? Only to tell me that?"

"And also…" Squalo hesitated one second before resuming. He really wasn't used to such sentimentalism! The silverette was unconsciously stamping on his feet, his face was frowning; a hand brushed a silvery lock behind his earshell. "To give you your fucking answer." Here it comes, Dino gulped down. Yes, back then, he had been too coward, not to ask the silverette but to listen to _that_ answer. In fact, back then, he was so afraid he just ran away like a bloody idiot instead of waiting for it. "Don't misunderstand me, voi! Back then, after the graduation, I _would_ have given you a proper answer. But you just disappeared without leaving your new address and all… I was fucking frustrated, damnit!"

Was it reproach the blond could hear in Squalo's voice? It wouldn't be surprising since everything was damn right. More than ten years ago, he used the opportunity of his father moving abroad to confess to the silverette so that, no matter what the answer was, he wouldn't have to suffer of it after. A lousy dumbass, indeed.

"If I remember well…" Dino kneeled before the silverette and took the latter's hand in his. "The exact words I used… 'I love you. I've loved you for years, ever since we met. Would you mind going out with me?' Somehow, when I tell it like this, it sounds quite stupid, doesn't it?"

Dino's tone was jovial, but Squalo remained grave. That was also one of the many reasons why he fell in love with the silver haired man: that always serious and apprehensive air that suited him so well.

"… I can't." the answer came, but not without a faint uncertainty at the beginning. Dino didn't want to ask for the reason. The only fact he wasn't yelling and cursing at him was enough for the blond. He got up and took a deep breath.

"Ouch. That's the second time I'm being jilted today."

…

Xanxus rubbed a thumb against his temple and grunted. What had happened, just right now? Did that trash actually run after Cavallone? The whole situation was so warped it was nearly laughable. It was slowly, slowly slipping through his fingers; everything was starting to be out of control, and that was something he had never been through. If they had been in a 'normal' relationship, maybe they would have talked about it and find together a compromise… _What the fuck_. Does the raven look like some kind of gay fucktard?

Something was changing… No, something _had_ changed. Xanxus wasn't a fraidy-cat enough to say it frightened him, but it sure annoyed him. Somehow, the thought of Squalo being held by another man was maddening him to no Hell. He'd rather see the silver haired trash dead than being another man's. Was that what people call jealousy? Like Hell. That he, Xanxus, would become attached to someone to the point of feeling this kind of insecurity… The trash _did_ change something in he didn't want that to happen.

The ring of his cell phone came in the nick of time.

" _What_?" Xanxus roared in the phone. A panicked squeak resounded in the receiver.

"M-mr Xanxus… There's some news… about Daulay's buyer… Mr Ieyasu told me to call you, he said you have to come at the office right now. A car is waiting for you outs-"

 _Click_.

And one more shit, Xanxus pondered. He looked at the mess in the room: the broken table, the shattered trinkets and soiled floor. The room looked too much like a scene of domestic dispute – or to be more precise, of domestic violence. In that case, was he the cuckold husband or Squalo the flouted wife?

One way or another, he had to go. At least that was a good pretext to leave the devastated room (not as if a man like Xanxus needed a pretext to run away from any kind of trouble). Xanxus was about to get out when the door suddenly open, letting the long haired man in. He gawked in annoyance at the mess, then at the raven, ready to go hysterical. But his mouth shut close as fast as it opened when the dark frame of the tanned man drew close to him within a fraction of second.

"Xanxus?..."

But the latter barely paused by. Only a dark and icy glare at the silverette, and he went past him. Not a single word, nothing. Squalo wasn't used to that unexpected muteness, that different attitude from the raven. Xanxus was always angry, condescending and violent. He wasn't that… cold.

"Wait…" The silverette wanted to stop him, as though his instincts told him if the raven got out from the living, he wouldn't go back anymore. But too late. Xanxus was already outside.

Only the humming of the motor stirred the raven from his apparent torpor.

"Damn whore," the raven was mumbling angrily, "go die you and your fucking Romeo…"

"Um, Mr. Xanxus?" A voice suddenly startled him. "Is something bothering you?" Without him noticing, Xanxus was already in the meeting room with Kikyo's sarcastic eyes staring at him since quite some time, it seemed. "Maybe you've drunk too much." Which wasn't wrong. Xanxus nearly drank a bottle of scotch in one gulp since he left the apartment.

And the fact that the entire Board of VR Co. was in the room didn't affect him that much. Actually, since the start, most of them were only men and women of straw set at their places to play a role dictated by the raven. And that day they were supposed to hold an emergency meeting related to the Daulay case. That day, they would finally find out who was the Danish's backer.

The other party took heed of letting no clue that would have allowed anyone to retrace their track. And if Xanxus had taken trouble reading the 150 pages report already open on the desk then he would have seen that the Danish wasn't an isolated case: for the past few years, VR Co. had seen its expansionist policy hindered by divers little encumbrances over and over again.

At first they were nearly unnoticeable and the Danish case had been the biggest of them. Ieyasu finally discovered, behind a multifaceted and intertwined webs of sharings and offshore branches, a threat way more critical than dropped sales: slowly but surely, VR Co.'s shares were being gulped down by a single opponent. They had taken advantage of the small trifles inside and outside of the company, of the smallest slump in prices, then Bang! They were in the game. The strategy had been simple still so subtle no one until now took it in. And the name that would always come back over and over again: WHS Holding.

"I don't need your crummy psychoanalysis, you shithead. And what the fuck are you doing here?"

A tall and dark haired man jumped to the raven, sweat drenching his forehead. "Boss! Mr. Byakuran is coming soon. Um… Have you read Ieyasu's report? Not yet? Please, sir, it's very important, there are very important changes in our plans…"

All of a sudden, the double door opened up, letting in a white haired man with a wide grin stretching his lips. The man was pretty young – at most he was Xanxus' age; and seeing his outfit (very plain sweater, blue jeans and baskets), it would have been easy to mistake him for the delivery boy. Ieyasu was following him from behind; he closed the door.

"Very nice, sirs!" The white haired man smiled at everyone in the room. "I'm sorry for coming unexpectedly. Now shall we begin?"

"This man is Byakuran," Ieyasu said in a hurry as the look of bewilderment on Xanxus' features gradually changed into irritation. "He's the WHS Holding's current boss and starting from today-"

"Part of VR Co.'s Board, of course with our dear boss' approval." Byakuran ended the older man's sentence while taking place at the other side of the table, right in front of Xanxus. Ieyasu rapidly walked to the raven then whispered something in the latter's ear. It barely took more than thirty seconds. With a sign of his hand, the raven dismissed the older man.

A wicked smile made its way on the raven's lips. "You damn asshole. You _don't_ have the slightest idea what you're getting involved in."

TBC


	10. Why marshmallow is white

10th chapter, 10th chapter! I really love you , guys! Thank you for following this story!

* * *

Yamamoto Takeshi was what one could call a very lucky boy. He was good-looking, he had a smile that could make any girl swoon, he had a natural gift for sports and, without even giving the impression of working hard, had always got respectable grades since he was in junior high.

His childhood friend, Tsuna, on the other hand, was what everyone called a _good-for-nothing_ : plain look, pathetical grades and hopeless in sports, it was a wonder how he and Yamamoto had become friends. Yet, friends they sure were.

Classes and exams were over and had made room for few days of break – the kind of break you can see the end without even starting to enjoy it. Like every time such circumstances occured, Yamamoto would always spend the greater part of his time at Tsuna's home, watching movies, playing games or, like it's the case here, revising the latter's remedial course.

"Hiiiii! I can't learn this!" Tsuna squeaked while throwing sheets and sheets of paper in the air, then collapsed on the floor of his bedroom. For lack of understanding it, he had been trying to remember by heart the same formula for hours and hours now but nothing – nope, absolutely nothing – was staying in his mind. And the fact that the one who was helping him swotting up for the second chance examination was the extremely gifted Gokudera Hayato wasn't helping him at all. In fact, listening to Gokudera explaining their courses was more like listening to some strange voodoo incantation rather than anything else.

"Come on, Tsuna!" Yamamoto cheered up. "It's not that hard. Look, if you divide this with this, you'll get… Um… I think you can obtain β this way _…_ "

Hayato glared at Yamamoto behind his thick glasses. "You baseball freak! That's completely wrong!"

"Really? But I got the right answer, didn't I?"

Hayato started scribbling some undecipherable notes in Tsuna's book "You've got it all wrong. S+ shouldn't be here. It's not even the right ratio. It's more like #?!©À¥ minus Ü◊↙₮‼ῶ then you get ῗὩὍ. You see? So what's so hard with this?" Or that's more or less what Tsuna could comprehend from what the silver haired boy was saying.

"Kyaaah! I give up!"

Suddenly a knock on the door. "Tsuna?" His mother called. "Can you go buy eggs? I used the last ones and I can't leave the kitchen right now."

"Heee? But it's already dark outside!" The brunette complained. That was right: it was already past 8p.m. and the next convenience store was three streets further. And in Sawada Tsunayoshi's defense, I also have to add that the boy was a scaredy-cat.

Takeshi got up. "It's okay, Mrs. Sawada. I'm going to buy them. Anyway Gokudera can explain this better than me, can't he Tsuna?" He smiled. It wasn't a sarcastic smile. The dark haired youth actually believe every word he had uttered, and this in spite of the fact Tsuna had opened wide, horrified eyes and was shaking his head frantically as though to say 'don't you leave me with this madman.'

Yamamoto left the apartment and ran down the stairs leading to the ground floor. What he didn't expect, though, was to find, once at the entrance of the building, a gorgeous silver haired man standing outside in casual clothes, a lit cigarette between his thin fingers, the complexion strangely pallid under the streetlamps' light.

"Sensei…?" He rose to ask. That encounter was so incredible he almost couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. Heavy greyish orbs slowly turned to look at him.

"Oh, that's you." Squalo said very simply. "What are you doing here?"

"I… Um… My friend is living here." The dark haired boy pointed at the building. "And you? You look like you're waiting for someone."

The silverette frowned. Did he give that impression? He pondered. That was the last thing he needed. He took a gulp from his cigarette then puffed out. "I'm _not_. I'm just short of cigarettes. Was about to buy a new pack."

"Oh, are you? Mind if I go with you? I have stuff to buy, too."

Squalo shrugged and turned his back to Yamamoto, who followed him closely. The boy couldn't believe his luck. It wasn't everyday he could see the silverette that close and in such a different environment. It was as though he'd finally overtaken that professor-student barrier that had always stood between them when they were in the university. But what was rejoicing him the most was the fact the silver haired man didn't seem to be angry at him anymore, and that did mean a lot for the boy.

They were walking slowly in the desert streets. Takeshi had no idea for what the eggs would be used for, and he didn't truly care. All that did matter to him at the moment was to make the time he was spending with the silverette longer. He didn't know what they could talk about. If there was something the younger swordsman didn't want was to say some stupid things to the silver head again and to make him run away. So he remained silent, only listening to their footsteps on the asphalt and, from time to time, watching at any change in Squalo's expression. And Yamamoto hadn't been wrong: as monotonous as the walk could be, Squalo indeed needed that silence around him. Just for a while.

However the night was starting to get chilly and Yamamoto noticed Squalo was only wearing very light linen clothes. All of a sudden a blast of wind blew in the street, making silver locks gracefully spread all around the older man and give the latter a goose skin. Without thinking, Takeshi took off his jacket and wrapped the silverette's narrow shoulders with it.

"What's that?" Squalo inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

It was Yamamoto's turn to shrug. "It's cold, you know. It would be a shame to fall sick now."

Squalo stared at him suspiciously, but said nothing. They resumed their walk. Few minutes later, they arrived at the convenience store, got the cigarettes and eggs, and were on their way back home. Anyway, Squalo didn't wait to ruffle for his packs in the bag. Bringing a stick to his lips, he tried to light the lighter up but grimaced as the fire would always die too fast.

"It's broken?" Takeshi asked.

"Nah…" Squalo groaned. "It's that hand… I hurt it earlier. It's annoying."

"Lemme see." The dark haired boy just irreverently pulled at Squalo's left hand and stared at the palm. He smiled. "Ah, I can see it. It's just a splinter. All right, I take it out. Don't move…" And as he said, he slowly took the fragment of wood between his fingernails. He threw it away. "How did it get stuck in your hand?"

The silverette's frown grew deeper. "Che. I just removed a broken table from my living-room."

"You broke a table? How?" Yamamoto bit his lower lip. Somehow he felt he shouldn't have asked that question. Quick. A diversion. "Er… Maybe you'll need some help to take it outside. I can give a hand, if you want."

Squalo still was frowning, but it was more because of his weighing the pros and cons of that proposition. But, it looked like the pros won since Yamamoto Takeshi was finally allowed in the silverette's rooms.

…

"Where the hell have you gone yesterday?" Gokudera yelled at Takeshi, so loud everyone in the classroom turned to look at them with curious eyes. A very useless act indeed since the silver haired boy was sitting right in front of him. Hayato should try to control that, that is, the attitude he has in public. Nonetheless the silver haired youth seemed to be utterly oblivious to people's gape.

Yamamoto smiled whilst averting his eyes. "Yesterday… I-I think I was with dad. You know… He suddenly asked me to help him at the restaurant, so I went back home."

"You were at the restaurant, you say…Of course, 'cause that's what you said in your message." Hayato glared. "I _went_ at your father's restaurant yesterday. You weren't there! We were fucking worried about you!"

"I'm sorr-… Ah?" Yamamoto gaped. "You say you were worried? You, Gokudera?"

Hearing this, a slight blush tinted Gokudera's cheeks. He stuttered. "I-I wasn't! Tsuna was… And Mrs. Sawada too!"

"I'll talk to them later. Is everything all right now?"

Hayato grunted. The dark haired boy had always had that habit to smile happily at him, and he always used to smile such a bright smile it was nearly impossible to bear him ill-will for his behavior. Was he doing it on purpose? Or was he only a stupid baseball freak, too idiot to notice the trouble his always cheerful attitude could do to people? Hayato didn't like him, but he could do absolutely nothing to change that side of him. Finally, he sighed. "Yeah… At what time is Tsuna's exam ending again?"

"12, maybe." Yamamoto watched at his phone. "Do you want to wait for him?"

Gokudera looked up, pensive. "Mmh… I think I can't. I have something to attend before that."

"Do you? Can I go with you?" He asked out of the blue. Hayato didn't see it coming at all and, when this kind of thing happens to him, he bristles up.

"Why do you ask…" He stammered. "I mean… It's nothing important or anything, and I don't need you to… And don't you have practice today? With that psycho sensei? You said he would teach you sword again."

"Well, yeah. But not today."

"Anyway! why do you want to follow me?"

"Because I don't have anything to do today." Takeshi gave tit for tat. "So? Can I?"

"Tsk. All right." The silver haired boy gave up. "But you'd better not bother me, did you hear me?"

"Yup!"

That ended the conversation. The baseball freak was practically beaming with the only idea of tagging along with him the whole day. But as he said, what Gokudera had to do that day wasn't something that important. Just a familial affair: he simply had to welcome someone at home. And two hours later, Yamamoto Takeshi met for the first time the silver haired teen's family. But Hayato had forgotten (for years) to mention that his family was descended from a long line of landed gentry, that they were flush with cash, and also that that 'someone' was in fact WHS Holding's leader Byakuran, and his half-brother.

"WH… What?" Takeshi asked as they were waiting for Byakuran in the flight of steps of the immense and beautified hall of the Gokuderas' estate.

A magnificent chandelier was illuminating the whole place, irradiating the women's jewels and the refined crystals waiters were serving to the guests. In spite of the incredible dimensions of the hall, an intense smell of perfume altogether with a low humming and classic music were filling the place, faintly dizzying Yamamoto. He felt awkward in his everyday outfit in the middle of all that high class society. Hayato didn't look flustered. He didn't even care about getting a change of clothes, yet with his aloof attitude, he seemed to fit perfectly in the scenery.

The silver haired youth eyed shiftily at a couple who was passing by them. "WHS Holding. It's a company my brother set up maybe five or six years ago with a friend of his, in college. Who was that guy again… A What's-his-name Souichi, I think. They started with funds father gave him. They did well at first, but then small shits started to happen. Maybe a fight between Byakuran and the Souichi guy, no one ever knew. But the guy left their business and then something really weird started: things just started to go _too_ well for WHS. Father didn't ask anything. The _accomplished_ son (Hayato stressed ironically on the word 'accomplished') was exceeding his expectations, why would he ask for more? At any rate, his son is back from an important business trip. It's been years since he last came back home, so what kind of face would they show if the family didn't throw a party corresponding to WHS's successful story?"

"Okay…" Yamamoto was smiling gawkily. "So?..."

The silver haired teen scowled. "Of course, you don't get anything of what I'm talking about. Whatever. Ah. That's him."

He beckoned at the dark haired teen. They both went down the stairs and headed to another room adjacent to the hall. There a little committee was chit-chatting idly while drinking cocktails and moving like ghosts in the bright space. And there, in the middle of that little crowd was standing, as a perfect host, Byakuran. He had left his sweater and jeans and now was wearing a flawless designer white suit. The white haired man was smiling politely at everyone, yet one could feel some kind of coldness around him, like a wall he had built on purpose around him in order to keep unwanted people at distance.

Gokudera Hayato knew that wall very well. Even if he had known Byakuran for years, almost since his childhood, it had always been there. Well, it's not as though he could get on that well with his own sister, too. But what he felt around Byakuran when they first met was… fear?

Byakuran was talking to a man in tuxedo when Hayato came into view. He immediately beamed at him. "Isn't this my little brother? How have you been, Hayato?"

"Not bad." Hayato replied. "Dad said you have some stuff to do here. You'll be leaving right after, I guess."

"Yes, but I think this time the job will take a little longer than usual. Is this a friend of yours?" He looked at Takeshi. "How rare to see one."

"No. How rare to see _you_." Gokudera stiffened. "We're following the same courses at university, that's all."

The white haired man ignored the remark. His expression didn't even change once while Hayato's steadily grew angrier. "You really don't change at all. That's a good point for you."

"Shut up."

"Now, now. I was complimenting you. It's a shame but we can't talk any longer. I have to go back to work…"

"To go back?" The silver haired youth raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you just arrived?"

"My plane landed in Japan yesterday and I immediately attended a meeting. I didn't have time to go home so I stayed at the hotel instead." His cellphone rang. He took it out from his pocket. "Oh, that must be Kikyo. I got to go. See you, Hayato. You too, Um…"

"Yamamoto Takeshi." Said teen bowed.

"Takeshi, then. Oh! I almost forgot." Byakuran rummaged in the inner pocket of his jacket, and then gave enormous packs of marshmallows to the two dumbfounded youths. "For you. I brought them from France. Did you know they make the best marshmallows of the world? I'd love spending even only a week there."

"What the…" Hayato mumbled.

"You're welcome. _Sur ce_."

Byakuran left the room, then the hall. Yamamoto didn't lose sight of him until the man was totally out of his field of vision. "He doesn't look that bad. Maybe a little weird."

Gokudera sighed and weighed the marshmallows in his arms. "Just how did he put those in his jacket…"

The young swordsman took a piece of marshmallow in his mouth. "And he's right." He gulped down. "They really taste good."

Gokudera snapped. "You two stop talking about fucking marshmallow!"

Byakuran barely heard his brother's angry shout. In no time, he was already in the mansion's backyard. He picked up the call and, for the first time since he crossed the mansion's entrance, his air slightly darkened. "Kikyo, things are going on smoothly, I hope… Mmh. Xanxus found out, huh?... Yeah… You don't have to apologize. I knew it wouldn't be that easy… It doesn't matter. As long as they agree, it doesn't… What? The party? Boring. I should have stayed in my hotel room instead… Right. Send me a car. Okay."

He hung up but didn't put his phone down. For one minute, the white haired man remained completely still, his eyes lost in some unknown place and the screen of the cellphone against his forehead. Something sure was troubling him. Slowly a wicked grin stretched his lips.

"Xanxus…" He murmured. "You sure are a dangerous man."

TBC


	11. Why nurses are great

This morning i woke up with that song in my ead... I dont remember te title anymore... You know, it was the song with the chorus like "i really really really really like you and i want you to want me, to wat me too."... To make it short i think it's cute; i think it's the same singer as in Call me maybe... God i LOVED the video. It reminds me of that old Zazie's song, Un point c'est toi. I love those songs. But i mostly love the video of the songs *beam*

* * *

"For how many days had Xanxus stayed in that room?" Ieyasu asked.

The raven's young secretary looked back at her boss' office whose door was closed, as always. She shook her head. "I don't know, sir… When I left yesterday he was still in there, and when I arrived that morning, he was already there. And come to think of it, I remember it was already the case yesterday and the day before yesterday, too, so I don't really…"

"Okay, it's okay. Just let me in."

The girl complied. One second after, Ieyasu was entering Xanxus' office. It was barely 1p.m. yet the place was strangely dark and gloomy. In spite of the fact gigantic bay windows were used as walls, it was like sunlight simply couldn't pass through them. With a steady pace, he crossed the meters that were separating him from the huge mahogany desk. Behind, Xanxus was in his royal armchair, back turned to the glass walls so it seemed there was actually a pool of darkness flowing on the raven.

Was he asleep? At least, Xanxus gave that impression to Ieyasu. If he was, maybe it was a bad idea to disturb him. He knew perfectly how mad that guy could get when someone woke him from his sleep.

"What are you here for?" Xanxus grunted, his eyes closed.

The older man smile mockingly. "Oh, I thought you were asleep. If you want, I'll come back later."

"Cut that crap."

In a bad mood, Xanxus sure was. Ieyasu looked at the mess on the table. There weren't only piles of papers: files and folders closed months ago and some for future projects he didn't even have time to think about, everything was there, stacked in a hellish mess.

"I asked Hana since when you've been shutting in. It's good you've finally decided to work seriously, but it's not a reason for going that far." He waited for an answer, even for a curse from Xanxus, but none came. Seriously, did he really become neurasthenic? Ieyasu heaved a sigh and left a new report on the desk. In the move, some photos slipped through the sheets. "I hope you're satisfied with the WHS case. Not surprisingly, we can't just push them out. Right after you, they're in the majority, plus it seems some investors look favourably their new shareholding. VR Co.'s quotation had never got that high before. However I think Byakuran won't make a move anymore… At least, for now. I have to agree, it had been a good maneuver."

It was a lie. Xanxus' lack of morality in business had always disgusted him: the older man simply couldn't get used to the raven's way of doing things. Going as far as life threatening was just… Anyway, Ieyasu didn't believe a single word of what he was saying, and as an indifferent of a person as Xanxus could be, the irony didn't go unnoticed to him.

"What?" He groaned angrily. "If you've got some fucking shit to say, say it."

"Hey, hey, Xanxus…" He took a seat in front of the raven. "You're more irritable than usual. Something bad had happened?"

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me. If that's all, get out."

Xanxus' somber tone only made Ieyasu burst out laughing. "Come on! We're friends, aren't we? I've known you for years: something is worrying you. And as a friend-"

"I ain't have a scum as a friend."

"… As a friend, I shall do something to remedy to it. Now, you tell me."

Xanxus was on the verge of a fit of temper, or he was already undergoing it but just kept the ire that Ieyasu's words had lit in him, veiled by an appearance of sanity. Nevertheless, the whole situation was even more amusing the older man. Of course, he knew about Xanxus' recent breakup with the silverette. What he hadn't expected though was the raven's reaction. Ieyasu thought that he would come back to his previous life of debauchery, or that he would go missing like not that long ago. Well, that had been a complete miscalculation: Xanxus actually devoted himself to the work he had neglected for months. No booze, no whores. Only work. At least, with this, no one could blame him for professional negligence.

It was incredible to see such an amazing change in the dark haired man. Almost frightening. After all, Ieyasu had been right : the silver haired man truly was awesome. What he learnt from the latter last time they met wasn't bad either. That Xanxus could be a caring and affectionate man (to some extent), he would have never believed it. Oh, Squalo never specifically said he was dating the raven (Ieyasu was already glad he could worm information out about his 'partner'), but the silverette didn't really look like someone who would keep a millstone for fun. He was gorgeous, independent and talented… Nah, nah, it was still a wonder to Ieyasu what that guy liked about Xanxus.

Yeeet, it was more than obvious the raven didn't look on the bright sight of their splitting up. It had been pathetic – if it hadn't been about _Xanxus_ we were talking about. So pathetic Ieyasu felt the need of helping his boss and, somewhat, to redeem for the doubts he first had about the long haired man.

And precisely, for once, Xanxus looked like he would put his pride aside and confide to him. He grunted and rose a little from the back of the seat. "God damn old geezer… You always say you've been happy with your wife, don't you."

"Yeah." The older man said in a breath, a nostalgic smile on his lips. "The best years of my life."

The raven grimaced. It was as though what he had to say would scrape his tongue. "I was thinking… about it. About marriage."

"Ah?" Ieyasu gaped stupidly at him. What? What, what, what, what? Was _he_ talking about marriage? Why the hell was he talking about marriage? Oh, no, no, no, the old man paused his thoughts. He had been staring at Xanxus for too long. "Why are you thinking about that, all of a sudden? It doesn't sound like you at all..."

"Shut up. I'll get married. Go find a stupid woman. And now, get out."

…

Yamamoto was striking again. Each one of his movements – from the simple way the boy was holding the handle from the angle of attack, everything – was scanned by the silver haired man's eyes. They had grown slightly better… barely. They were still at the fifth séance, but Squalo had to admit the boy was a quick learner. The silverette was sure that if he let his guard down just a little, even if it was only a brat, he himself could get seriously hurt.

"Voooi! Your fucking legs, you damn brat! I didn't ask you to dance waltz or shit. Your posture sucks. Like hell."

"Sorry!" The dark haired boy said, out of breath, then immediately corrected his move before striking again.

"Don't forget blind spots. Your lousy brain already forgot what I told you last time?"

"Sorry!"

"Voi, your damn back is fucking exposed. Maybe I'll have to break some vertebras before you learn your goddamn lesson!"

"Sorry!..."

If something could ever be a trial for someone's patience, that was the silverette's limitless exigencies. Squalo was a swordsman, but he was also a teacher. A very, very intransigent one. This is something Yamamoto immediately noticed about him… Until lately. At their very first session, enthusiasm and delight could be sensed in Squalo's teaching. But now, he gave to the teenager boy the impression of forcing himself.

That wasn't totally right, but in the same time not totally wrong.

Questions as what happened between the first lesson and this one, and what he could do to help him were burning Takeshi's tongue. Evidently, he asked nothing; he wanted to live a long life. For the proud silverette, Yamamoto was a student, a brat, in no way his equal. And what he had witnessed that night, under the streetlamp – the heavy greyish eyes looking at him, allowing the boy to stay at the long haired man's side – he knew it wouldn't come back before long, if it would come back at all.

Only the sword was linking them.

However, it didn't matter how much the kid would improve his style, in no way he could even be on a par with the silverette, and even less surpass him. With a swift and nearly imperceptible wave of his sword, he could send Yamamoto fly at the other side of the gymnasium. He didn't even put much effort in it. Everything seemed so simple and easy for him it was somehow frustrating for Takeshi to look at him.

They'd been practicing for hours now (they started earlier than usual, and yet it was already quite late in the night) and, looking at Squalo's peaceful and bored face, it seemed they'd started barely five minutes before: he wasn't even breaking a sweat while Takeshi could hardly stand up. If they kept on like that, he surely wouldn't be able to attend classes the day after… or even to come back home the same day.

"You shitty dickhead, stop daydreaming like a motherfucking nitwit and focus!"

"Sor- Ouch!"

And what had to happen happened: crumpling of biceps. Yamamoto's. It ended up the training for both of them. After tidying up the gymnasium, apologizing for the nth time to his tutor (who kept on saying that a broken arm or two wasn't that serious, that it would make of him a less pitiful weakling), and assuring he would be okay for their next séance, Yamamoto left the gymnasium and an angered Squalo, before going back to his father's restaurant with a bandaged arm.

Yet, in some way, and despite all the bad-mouthing and moral harassment, the silverette didn't dislike fencing with that katana kid. Swordsmanship indeed had always been a real passion for him, but that wasn't all…

Squalo remained motionless for few seconds, turned right and left as though to ascertain there was no one around anymore. "It can't be helped. Let's go home, then." He finally whispered to himself before leaving the gymnasium.

Since the day the raven disappeared, two or three weeks ago, the flat looked oddly tidy and tranquil. When the silverette was back from work, the TV was never on. Everything in the kitchen was at the place he had left them the morning before. The bed was made and the shape of cushions on the couch finally came back to normal.

There was no one. No one to bother him. No one to wait for him. Just… no one. 'Our heart is like a treasure, empty it at one go and you'll be ruined.' Literally speaking, Squalo was ruined.

How stupid. He had always lived alone, as far as he could recall. What was so dramatic about getting back to that kind of life? They had never promised anything to each other. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that useless bastard needed anything from him apart from food. And sex. What he felt toward him was merely… Um. A nurse syndrome, perhaps?

'What the hell…' A curse crossed through his mind. The trail of his thought was starting to sound like an old melodramatic movie. Or like Sex and the city.

And what was the point anyway? They meant nothing to each other, the silver haired man was sure about that. Nonetheless, what was that small pang he felt in his chest when he crossed his doorstep? Why did that cold and rancorous glare of the raven trouble him in the middle of the night? The void the damn coffee table left in the living room still was there. Maybe he should buy another one. That was completely stupid: there had been no table in the living for nearly three weeks.

Xanxus had forgotten some of his stuff. How was he supposed to give them back to him? That idiot didn't even give him his number (because Squalo actually never thought he would need it some day). Now, in addition to his own clothes, his dressing also concealed outfits and shoes too big for him. He should take care of that, too. And also toothbrush, shampoo, and what else…

Suddenly, a way more down to earth preoccupation drew the silverette's attention; his sweaty shirt and hair were sticking to his skin. He needed to take a shower.

Throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, entering the shower stall and letting warm water fall on his back and face, his thoughts started to gather together. No, things definitely weren't the same. Back then, when Xanxus first disappeared, Squalo felt more deceived than anything else. It wasn't clearly anger or sorrow. He didn't feel that kind of anguish, of an 'I disappointed him' feeling he knew at the moment.

And unlike last time, Xanxus would _not_ come back, not after that look in his eyes. It somehow annoyed the silverette. That is, the sheer hatred he had observed in the bloody glare. Squalo couldn't find an explanation for it. Did he do or say something wrong? And for God's sake, why the fuck was he thinking about that anyway? He did nothing that he should feel guilty about, and the simple fact of trying to find which mistake he did to repulse the raven was only increasing his frustration. Holy shit! Was he seriously trying to please that asshole?

Nonsense, he hissed whilst turning off the tap. He was too accustomed to the raven's presence, that was all. It might take days or weeks, but he would forget him. Just a matter of time. The silverette dried his hair and went straight to his bed. It was upsetting to have dinner in the living room – and a funny detail about dinner: before he met the raven, Squalo always used to have his meals in the kitchen (in any case, the silver haired man _was_ a cleaning freak). Neither did he feel like going out…

"…I can't sleep." The long haired man finally grunted after losing one hour trying to sleep. The sheets were cold, he didn't even feel like sleeping. Even almost 14 hours of morning jogging, yelling at idiotic brats, cleaning and fencing, Squalo still couldn't fall asleep. And, much to his shame, the silverette knew exactly why. "That damn bastard…"

Just how said bastard used to kiss and embrace him so passionately in the very same bed, how the tanned skin burnt against his, how he made the silver haired man come over and over and over again, that kind of memories was enough to make Squalo lose his sleep. As the latter shifted slowly under the drapes, the manly musk of the dark haired man suddenly rushed in his nose, making his lower-half react. The smell was enthralling. It was almost like having the tanned man sleeping right next to him…

Right next to him…

"Mm-Ngh…" The silver head moaned when the palm of his hand made contact with his heated shaft. It hadn't been a good idea to put no clothing in bed, and right after the shower, too. His sensitive skin was rubbing lustfully against the mattress, his breath was growing heavier by the minute, his face hotter and hotter… At long last, succumbing to the temptation, he fully grabbed his half-erected manhood and started pumping as though his life depended on it. "Aa… Ah!... Xanxus!"

It was beyond his strength, not thinking about the tanned man when he was…doing it. It came instinctively, without him even noticing. His body had become incredibly habituated to the raven's, to the point of being practically unable to come without the idea of Xanxus touching him. The place the taller man used to kiss, to lick and to suck… Damn, Squalo missed them. His hands only couldn't completely satisfy him, but it was fucking better than having an aching hard one for the rest of the night.

His legs spread wider on the bed and the pressure on his engorged flesh increased, the temperature of his body raising a few degrees again, sweat drenching his forehead and neck. There, he remembered, Xanxus would always lick and nibble at the skin there, and make him moan louder for the latter to shove his own manhood in him.

" Fuck… Fuck! Fuck!..." The silver haired man arched his back off the bed, his face still buried in the raven's pillow, breathing hard, playing alternatively with his length and balls with pre-cum coated fingers. A little more, just a little more and he… "Ugh…"

Then, how Xanxus would madden him by neglecting his arousal, pulling suddenly out when the silverette needed so much that ache inside of him. In the heat of the moment, he got on his knees, ass up in the air, one hand trapping his erection, another one slowly trailing to his entrance. The twitching ring of muscles didn't show any resistance to the first finger passing by it, nor at the second and third one. They were stretching the tight tunnel, the semen on them making their motions fairly fluid. The silverette was looking for it, for that special spot in him Xanxus always manhandled to make him feel good.

"Xanxus!..." He whined and pushed back when his fingers finally found it. He kept on thrusting in, fucking himself with his own fingers. Shit, he was pretty sure if the raven saw him in like that, pleasuring himself while moaning his name, he would laugh out loud at him. But the silver head couldn't give a flying fuck to that. He loved feeling Xanxus' aroused stare on him, he loved the fire burning in those ruby orbs when the tanned man was about to climax. "Xanxus!... Aah…!"

Squalo couldn't hold back anymore. With a last pumping and a last shoving, he came hard, his entire body shuddering intensely, before slumping on the soiled sheets, out of breath. This time, Squalo didn't have to wait for too long before being totally dead to the world.

TBC


	12. Why some people say romance is dead

Now i realize i changed a lot of things about Bianchi. First in My bloody Valentine, now in this story... And also about Hayato... But I truly have no regret about it. You can blame me for this.

* * *

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." Jane Austen said in her well-known novel, Pride and Prejudice. And I may add: perhaps not _universally_ , but at least, in the Gokudera household, it was. A principle the patriarchs of the family had always believed in from generation to generation, including Hayato's father.

Gokudera Jouji was a very imposing man: almost as wide as he was tall and with a tenor voice, he knew how to make people respect him without even raising a finger. He had that self-assurance that so characterizes rich people, the proud bearing of a Bonaparte and the derisive glance of a courtier. Hayato hated that glance of him; it gave him the impression he was nothing more than some kind of fly hovering around the man. This, of course, had never been a problem for Byakuran, the stepson and the biggest pride of Jouji. For the old man, it was nearly like he didn't have any other children apart from the white haired man.

But, to tell the truth, his first marriage hadn't been anything like a success: the first Mrs. Gokudera had never been pretty enthusiastic concerning her husband's love affairs. One amongst the others particularly drove her into despair; that was the 'escapade' with the piano teacher of their daughter, Bianchi. Especially when the woman came back nine months later with a baby Hayato in her arms, claiming the name and the same rights as Jouji's daughter for her son. Such a scandal in the family. And the last straw had been at the accidental death of Hayato's mother when the toddler still couldn't walk on his feet. At that moment, was it due to true love for the dead woman or some fit of pity, but Gokudera father couldn't find the strength to push Hayato back. With the loss of a mother, the silver haired boy inherited a name, an older sister, a luxurious house and part of the fortune of his father's family.

All of this occurred just few months before Jouji remarried with Byakuran's mother.

"Talking about Bianchi," Jouji declared nonchalantly to his old friend Ieyasu one day they were playing golf like every Sunday for aeons it seemed, "I was starting to think, lately… isn't it high time for her to find a man, to have children… Oh, you know, all that fuss."

Ieyasu stared at the horizon as the ball he just hit crossed the sky and fell further meters away, his attention barely going to the nattering Jouji. For years, the other man kept on boring him about the same subject. "Yeah, maybe," he said quite indifferently. "How old is she, again?"

"Twenty-five. Still young, I agree, but the years, you know, the years… They go by and by, and in a flash, look, you're forty. And what a shame it would be, a real shame! I tell you, my daughter is a pearl. She's sweet and beautiful; and she's smart, too. Her mother had spent fortune for her education: piano lessons, riding lessons and all that stuff, I don't clearly remember what. You see?"

The blond spotted the white little ball on the grass, hidden behind the bushes, and, striding to it, he replaced his golf club with a smaller one. He eyed at the minuscule red flag, twenty or so meters away from them. "Yeah, I see, I see."

Indeed, Ieyasu saw too much. The hell did he know how it happened, but a rumor was now circulating here and there that his boss' biological man-clock suddenly started to work. Well, it wasn't truly false, but Ieyasu knew too well it was only one of the many whims of his boss. There was no way in the world Xanxus could actually want to get hitched to a woman he had never seen in his life, and there were even less chances the guy would have enough patience to put up with the poor woman after the wedding night.

In spite of everything, it was a huge dilemma. After all, the raven indeed got advanced in years. Sooner or later, he _would_ want to have kids, like any other men. However – Ieyasu couldn't put it clearly into words – however, the whole situation didn't feel quite right. At any rate, it was too much convenient for him that this all happened almost right after the breakup (even if Ieyasu still couldn't get accustomed to the idea of Xanxus being in an actual relationship). Even the silliest degenerate could tell the raven was doing this out of anger and spite.

"Aa…Xanxus. " He whispered. "Anyway, how do you want me to make a guiltless woman pay for your bloopers? I'd stake my car it's _your_ fault if you guys broke up…"

"Mmh? You said something?" Jouji raised an eyebrow as he heard the other male's whispering.

"Aa, no, it's nothing. I was talking to myself."

On the other hand, Ieyasu resumed his thoughts, regardless of all his flaws (and God he knew how many the raven had), Xanxus still could be considered as a nice match. Well, he was good-looking and his situation wasn't to be pitied … Yeah, that was another problem. Now, how many gold diggers would try to assault the raven wherever he would go?… Only thinking about this was giving Ieyasu a stomach ulcer. He really was too old to play the go-between.

"Ooh, here it is, here it is, the last hole…" He beamed as he noticed the ball was already close of the hole. He positioned his club and measured the distance and the strength he had to put in his arms in order not to miss that last point. He waited, waited, then, slowly, let his shoulders fell, thus sweeping the club along…

"Ah, Ieyasu!" Jouji's deep voice suddenly raised, startling Ieyasu and making the latter miss his hit. He glared at the other man.

" _What_?"

"Have I already told you about my son?" Jouji continued without perceiving the exasperated tone in Ieyasu's voice.

"Hayato? Yes, you have. He's in the same university as my son, wasn't he? I often see him when I pick Tsuna…"

"No… not that one. I was talking about Byakuran." Jouji's chest swelled with smugness. "He came back home few days before. I heard he's doing very well in _your_ company…"

The irony was obvious in that remark, but Ieyasu just brushed it away. He had more serious problems to deal with aside from Gokudera Jouji's vanity. Where the hell did the ball go again…

"Wait a minute…" He suddenly paused. Jouji's vanity, Ieyasu thought… He stared at the other man who was looking at him inquiringly. Bianchi, huh? He didn't recall when the last time he saw her was. All he could remember was the image of a young and cute girl, smart and gracious, of long and straight hair and a kind smile. At least, with her own family's wealth, she wasn't a danger. Frankly, the most frightening part in that deal wasn't even the fact she was Byakuran's half-sister (the white haired man didn't truly look like the family type), rather the fact she was _that man's_ daughter. But in any case, he was sure Bianchi wasn't _that_ unwise. "Can we have a little talk?"

…

"…And that's why, _mio_ Bianchi," Jouji harangued his daughter at suppertime, "I heard a rumor… that soon I'll have to call my daughter Mrs. Xanxus Vongola-"

"Father. Stop talking nonsense, please." Bianchi cut drily without even giving a glance to her father. She took a sip of wine. "It's already late and listening to a joke now isn't fun at all."

Apart from his sister and his father, only Hayato was sitting on that table in the middle of the vast dining-room where father and children had always took their meals. The room, like every day, was silent, oppressing. Apart from the clinking of the forks and knives and glasses, no sound was disturbing the everyday scenery but only, from time to time, a servant approaching them to refill Miss or Mister's glass.

"Y _ou're_ the one talking nonsense." Jouji protested violently by knocking his fist against the table and making the vaissellerie trembling. "Is that a way to talk to your own father?"

Bianchi wiped her lips before replying. "Perhaps not. But it's sure a way to talk to someone who has lost their mind. My poor father, I knew you were a lunatic. But I'd never thought you would go as far as to prostitute your only daughter…"

"Weigh your words, Bianchi, before I seriously decide to shut your mouth!"

The silence came back. But not for long. Hayato had listened patiently to his father's earlier words with his fists clenched, his tongue bitter in his mouth. He had particularly never had any kind of faith or esteem for his father, yet the boy had to admit, this time he was going too far!

"You… Don't you feel ashamed?..." the silver haired boy hissed at his father.

Bianchi raised a hand. "Hayato. It's alright."

"It's _not_ alright! Just how far is that old geezer going to use people around him as if we were nothing better than toys in his hands?"

"Ashamed, you say?" Jouji had a low chuckle, ignoring his daughter's intervention. "Why should I? That's why you kid shouldn't nose about in adults' business. Think about this, boy: I got her to wed one of the richest and most powerful men in the world. What's wrong in this? What a great service she would do for her family, even for you, Hayato! You two may find this revolting now, but come back ten years later and dare say I hadn't been right for doing it, you ungrateful children!"

The ginger's eyebrow twitched. Hayato brutally rose up from his seat and threw his napkin on the table. "I've had enough of that crap!" He yelled and left the diner-room under Jouji's furious stare.

"Are you proud of what you did?" Bianchi stood up. "I'll talk to him."

She followed the silverette in the corridor, then climbed the stairs to the first floor. There, she walked few seconds in another hallway before reaching a half-open door. When she opened it, what she saw behind was Hayato sitting right on the floor of a dark bedroom, back against the leg of his bed, his shiny silver locks falling on his eyes and forehead, making it impossible for the young woman to tell what the boy was thinking about.

"Now, now." She sat next to her brother. "You're too old to cry over something like this, aren't you?"

"I wasn't crying, damnit!" Hayato glared at her. His eyes were completely dry.

Bianchi smiled. "I know."

She knew a lot of things about the silver haired boy. In the end, she was the one who raised Hayato until that day. She knew the boy started smoking secretly at the age of thirteen, she knew his uncommon passion for UMAs and the fact that he was afraid of slugs… and she knew he _never_ cried in front of people, may they hit him, call him a bastard or whatever, he never. That was her tough little brother Gokudera Hayato.

"You…" The boy uttered rapidly. "You're not seriously considering what that old geezer had been talking about, aren't you?" Bianchi remained silent. She only kept at staring at the silver haired boy. However, before that quietness, Hayato got flustered. "Hey, you aren't? Tell me you aren't!"

"Why are you freaking out?" The smile didn't fade from Bianchi's lips.

"You're the one who should freak out! That's common sense! That old geezer tells you you're gonna marry some guy you've never talked to, you never saw, and you're okay with that shit?"

" _Hayato_." She said drily. "This is how adults' world is working. How many times did I tell you that? I'm as repulsed at this as you are." The sudden graveness in her look was immediately replaced by the usual kindness. "Anyway, why are you worried about me so much? This finally had nothing to do with you."

"I wasn't worried, you moron…" Hayato's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. He started fidgeting on his seat. "B-but I've always believed you were interested in Sh- Ouch!"

Bianchi was pulling harshly at Hayato's ear. Her smile turned dreadfully cold. "Don't you dare pronounce that name in front of me. Never more."

"G-got it…"

…

How could one picture a first date? Most of time, people would answer a long ride in a coach along the river under the moonlight, a picnic in the park with nothing around you but flowers and birds, or a romantic dinner in the most romantic restaurant in town…

Well, Bianchi _did_ have the diner in the restaurant (but not exactly the most romantic one; from the outside it looked more like a basement), but what she could very well have done without was the presence of her whole family (it wasn't as she ever considered Byakuran as part of her family) on the same table as Xanxus Vongola and her. No, to tell the truth she could very well have done without the dinner itself.

They were there, Bianchi, her father and brother and the raven, sitting around one of those few tables in that small windowless masculine room abundant with red and gold. The ceiling was very low and the place abnormally silent. It was as though people were too embarrassed to talk. Such a harassing ambiance. The noisiest table was surely theirs: when the few customers sitting around them were all trying to eat and talk as silently as possible, Bianchi's father kept on gabbing and gabbing and gabbing while Xanxus was practically devouring steak after steak, not once paying attention to the old man.

Said steak was indeed the real aim of that dinner: that restaurant, despite its humble appearance, was famous for cooking the best steak of the world. The aberrantly long waiting list was a consequence enough of that fame. Without the promise of making the raven taste the juiciest meat he had ever eaten, the latter wouldn't have even attended such a mundane display of social life.

"Hey, sis'…" Hayato, who was sitting right next to Bianchi, murmured at her. "Why the fuck did I have to go too?"

"No swearing at the table." The young woman scolded with boredom. "Can't you see your new brother-in-law is right before you?"

"Yeah… This man…" This sentence had been uttered with spite mixed with disappointment. But Hayato was right: it was a saddening sight to see that old man licking the raven's butt whilst deafening him with the story of his father and his father before him and so on till he really went back to the Great Flood. "For crying out loud! This isn't how you want your life to end up, is this?"

"Of course, this isn't. Was it too much to ask to have at least one discussion with my fiancé before my wedding?"

"Bianchi, sweetheart," Jouji all of a sudden called at the young woman with a cheerful laugh. "You know what I mean, you were there. We were all on that headland when you fell from that old horse. It was so funny!"

"Yes, father." Bianchi spit bitterly. "I do remember now, thanks to you."

The silver haired boy sighed. At least it wasn't all as bad as what he first imagined. His father was, true to form, loud and boastful, Bianchi was quiet but distinguished as always. And Xanxus was… He didn't know how to describe that man. Hayato knew what other people knew about him. No more. Plus it wasn't easy to read on that guy's face. The raven didn't talk; he didn't look at anything else but the dishes the waiters were putting before him. Was that man that indifferent to his surroundings when they didn't imply food? Finally, Hayato gave up on his inspection. It was merely a waste of time. Quickly getting over with that diner became everything that mattered for the youth.

The dessert came. It was a good thing they chose a small and cozy place for that gathering. For once, no scandal to fear from neither party. At long last, everything was starting to get boring. Hayato was leaning on his chair and tapping a finger against his leg, his coffee fuming on the table. He wanted to get out and have a smoke. The non-stopping flow of words from Jouji was irritating, that was true, but the shut-in atmosphere was also exasperating. Hayato began swinging slowly on his chair, back and forth. From where he was seated, the young silverette could spot another part of the restaurant he hadn't seen before, hidden behind a wooden partition. There, other customers where eating peacefully, too. However, as he was leaning more and more on the back of the chair, Hayato noticed a familiar detail behind the sliding doors.

Hayato paused a little. "Um? I already saw this before" He mumbled. "…Ah."

"For God's sake, Hayato!" Jouji fumed. "Stop acting like a kid and behave! And just what are you looking at?"

"Nothing." The boy frowned. "I just saw someone I know, behind the sliding-doors. A professor in the university where I'm studying at. I think I've already talked about that psycho guy, Superbi Squalo -"

Hayato hadn't finished his sentence when Xanxus, without warning, got on his feet. Not a single word came out from his mouth, but his ruby eyes sure were betraying his trouble. In an instant, he was at the other side of the room and opened violently the sliding-doors, hence drawing all of the customers' attention to him, including both the older silverette's and his date's.

TBC


	13. Why you know it don't come easy

Eeee so it's truly the first time someone is insulting one of stories (O_O). Well, it's not as if they were worthing a nobel in litteracy too. It somehow hurts... for about two seconds. And in the same time i don't really give a damn about it.

Thank you everyone for reading and for the sweet reviews!

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The doors slid wide open, and Squalo stared with bewilderment at the dark frame of the raven obstructing the opening.

"Voi, Xanxus, what…"

"What are you doing, Xanxus?" Jouji appeared behind the tanned man. "Some acquaintances of yours?"

Dino swiftly got up and smiled awkwardly at the intruders. He extended his hand. "Good evening, Mr. Gokudera, Xanxus. I didn't know you were here too. If I'd been told it sooner, I'd come to greet you directly-"

Jouji waved his hand at the blond with an obvious disdain. Apparently, the blond wasn't held in high esteem in his eyes. "Enough shillyshallying, Cavallone. We were having dinner together, my family and my new gender. Nothing a starlet like you should poke your nose into. Now if you have anything to say, say it _now_."

But now that Dino was allowed to talk, the words couldn't be found at all. He just stood there, agape and the palms of his hands slowly getting covered with perspiration. Jouji didn't wait to fill the silence with his own flow of words. He began fulminating about ignoramuses and boys whose good-looking only was worth something. Nothing in the brain, nothing in the pants. Their silly behavior, though, remained totally unnoticed by the raven as he kept on glaring irately at the silverette.

Of all places in that godforsaken world, why did he have to meet with that trash there that night? That was his goddamn luck back again. Somehow, seeing those hellish features, the shitty long and smooth and shiny hair glow under his eyes and that body he used to hold more than once, made his guts stir up in his belly. No matter what the raven would say, no matter the disgust he had admitting that fact, if he had to live forever, if his body would remember nothing else in the near future but a single thing, then it had to be that taste in his mouth and that burning in his flesh as it was melting in the damn silver haired beauty.

How many days, how many weeks had gone by since he left that familiar apartment? The bitter taste of that day was still present on his tongue. And that look on Squalo's face, back then. Just what the fuck was _that_ for? He looked as though something was hurting him… Anyway, Xanxus didn't have and didn't want to think about such scum's worry…

So why was that detail upsetting him?

"Shut the fuck up, you damn scum." Xanxus hissed at Jouji who immediately silenced, then, to Squalo, who blinked in disbelief: "You, fucking get up."

"Huuh? Why?"

Yeah, why? The mere fact of thinking about that dumb trash was bothering him – enough to make the aftertaste of booze and pussies feel strangely insipid. But one thing was sure: if the simple image of Squalo was only annoying, the image of him copulating with some Dino Cavallone was purely pissing him off. He'd rather see that moron dead than with another man.

"Don't 'huh' me, you trash. Get up. We're leaving."

"You're leaving?" Jouji echoed naively. "I beg your pardon, but I wasn't…Um, I thought tonight we would get to know more about each other…"

"I _don't_ want to know anything about you, shitty blockhead!" The raven thundered with a disgusted air, then pulled harshly at the silverette's collar. The latter pushed him back with equal harshness.

"Don't you fucking put your hands on me!" He roared.

"Um, sirs?…" A waiter discretely asked from behind the partition. "Is anything wrong?..."

"Nothing, nothing!" For the first time since the ruckus began, Dino's voice raised. "You can leave us alone. Besides, we're off, aren't we?-"

"Mind your own business, Cavallone!" Jouji demanded, then with a humbler tone, "Xanxus, come on, you can't just go as you please. We hadn't even talked about the date of the wedding yet…"

Bianchi, who appeared without warning behind her father, pulled softly at the old man's arm. "Can't we forget _this_ for tonight, father? It seems no one excepting you is still thinking about this at the moment."

Jouji frowned. She was right, maybe. The meal was over, that meant the raven would by soon run short of patience. And he didn't want to be around when that would happen, he wasn't suicidal. A disappointed smile stretched his lips. "Yes, that's right. Ha! Ha! I'm very sorry, Xanxus. We'll talk about this later on. I'll just… Call Ieyasu, then- Aah!"

The panicked scream had resulted from the fact Xanxus practically kicked him out of his way and headed for the restaurant's entrance while yanking whether at the angry silver haired man's wrist, shirt, hair or all of them in the same time. He only let go of Squalo once they arrived at the ground-floor, in something that looked like a sterile hospital ward (it was a necessary passage in order to get in or out of the restaurant) – and this after a lot of yelling and fuming from the silver head. However, as they got there, the raven went silent. The absurdity of the previous scene was now fully shining in his mind, and still he couldn't understand why he had that unreasonable need to drag the trash out of that place.

They remained there, quiet and as stubborn as each other. Squalo was the one who broke the silence.

"Voi, in the apartment… You forgot clothes and other stuff. Are you going to pick them up?"

"Throw them."

"I thought you'd want to have them back. It would be a waste to throw them away."

"Just fucking throw them, I tell you. You dumb ass."

Squalo looked daggers at the raven. They hadn't seen each other for weeks, but Xanxus really was exactly the same asshole as before. "Still with that shitty attitude, huh. You'd better change that before the wedding. Your wife's gonna cry."

"Scum." Xanxus' voice lowered. "What did you say?"

Squalo wasn't naïve, and he was more or less aware of what had been going on in the restaurant. Yet, he didn't want to put his secret fear into words. "What? I just said that you should change your attitude before you're getting married…"

The silverette was trapped against the wall, so fast all he could do was considering with stunned eyes at the raven's face too close of his. Damn close. Squalo could smell that peculiar scent from the taller man again. This and another intense, spicy, wood-like and faintly fruity one. "Xanxus…"

It was familiar to Xanxus, soothing, the silverette's sweet voice whispering his name… It had been a mistake, to want to see him again. It reminded the raven his own weaknesses. That trash had become his weakness, the only weakness he couldn't correct. That's why he _shouldn't_ have got closer anymore.

Xanxus bit at the smaller man's jaw. He bit hard, very hard, enough to draw blood from the broken skin.

"Stop this!... it hurts…" Squalo grimaced. He tried to push him back, in vain. Now, blood was dripping abundantly from the wound. However, the crimson on his cheek didn't ruin the beautiful face, far from it. "Damn bastard! Why did you have to do that?!" no answer came. Just like the spoiled brat he had always been, Xanxus just rested his forehead on the silverette's shoulder, his hands locked on the latter's waist, indifferent to the spectacle they were giving to any passer-by, one of two grown-up men embracing tenderly at the entrance of a restaurant.

He was heavy.

Few minutes passed like this, alone in that white aseptic hallway. Outside, the sound of humming cars could be heard from time to time. It was very normal since the restaurant was located in a populated area. Squalo shifted a little. "Voi, how long are we going to stay like this? Customers will come, you know. And aren't those people downstairs waiting for you?"

A grunt was the only reply. It probably meant the same thing as earlier: 'just throw them'.

At that moment, the silverette could have said a lot of stuff. Things like 'I'm not just a damn entertainment', or 'Who are you to invade so familiarly my personal space?', or 'I was fine before I met you, I'll be fine even if you leave me'… Well, anything that could prove he had a minimum of dignity as a human being. But before he could utter anything wise, his hands went to pet the dark mane, his teeth nibbling at the other male's ear.

"Wanna do it?"

Hell yeah, Xanxus wanted to. And sex with the shark-like beauty wasn't something one could forget overnight. They left the office building and in no time were in a nearby parking, on the rear seat of the raven's limousine. The place was totally void of people and the usual chauffeur accompanying the tanned man was told to have a little walk, so no one was going to disturb them in the middle of their 'affair'.

Squalo was straddling the raven, kissing him feverishly. It was as though his hands couldn't stay still. They were whether yanking at the black and spiky hair of the tanned man, or stroking the tense muscles of the latter's torso which was so well hidden behind his priceless silk shirt – however they were trembling so much he almost ripped the piece of clothes.

"Nn-aan…" He had to break the kiss when Xanxus' started grinding their groins together. "Wait, Xanxus… wait…!"

"Like hell." Said man replied wickedly. "Now you fucking tell me what that shitty trash did to you."

"Trash?" Squalo asked with hazy eyes. By that time, his hips were moving in unison with the grinding, back and forth, back and forth, lusciously. "Kh… Who…"

The tanned man yanked painfully at his hair. "That scumbag you were idly talking to. What did he do to you?" The pressure of Xanxus' other hand on the silverette's hip strengthened, like a threat, as if to tell the latter to do no shit like lying to him.

"We did nothing… Haa… Only, having lunch… or dinner together like today… Mm… Xanxus, hurry!"

How sweet the silver head's pleadings were for the raven. For a man who used to have sexual intercourses every day since his teenage years, those three weeks of abstinence got the better of him. His burning hands slid under the smaller man's pants and underwear and started fondling at soft and quivering buttocks. "You filthy bitch. I'll fucking kill you if you're lying."

A thick tongue licked at the wound on Squalo's chin before going down on his throat, his collarbone then his nipples. A phone was ringing somewhere in the car, but none of them gave a damn about it. The silver haired man couldn't suppress a high-pitched moan as the raven began sucking at the hardened tips through his half-open shirt. Unconsciously, his legs spread wide on the leather seat, his back arching painfully at the provocative play of Xanxus' teeth and lips on his chest. "Xanxus … Ngh!... Put it in already!" He whined.

"Shut up, whore." Xanxus kicked Squalo down and smirked. "First, you keep me amused. If you do well, I'll reward you."

Squalo shivered with anger, but said nothing. He was pretty sure that, at the moment, the raven was as turned on as him. They both needed relief, so the fastest he would get over with the foreplay, the soonest he'd got what he wanted.

Down on all fours, the silverette unbuttoned his pants before getting rid of them, his boxer following the second after. Long and thin fingers unzipped the tanned man's trousers, then drew out a half-erected shaft. Nonetheless, as Xanxus yanked at Squalo's hair for him to take it quickly in his mouth, the latter hung back. The reason for that hesitation could easily be explained by the silver haired beauty's remains of innocence: it wasn't the first time he saw Xanxus' dick, but it was actually the first time he saw it – or any other man's arousal – _that_ close. "Voi…" He said, quite embarrassed, red starting to show on his face. "That's stupid. It won't fit in…"

Xanxus' eyebrow twitched. This time, he used all his willpower not to hit the dumb trash in the face. It would be no use using strength at the moment. He bent all over the hesitant silverette and, in almost a whisper, said, "Trash, use your hands and tongue. Start licking the head."

And in the same way as a kid, Squalo complied obediently. The first licks were awkward, but after few tries, they got better. However, this, altogether with the pumping of his hands, weren't enough to satisfy the tanned man. "Now, take the head in your mouth. Don't stop moving your hands, stupid."

By that moment, Xanxus' manhood was completely hard and erected. The silverette began taking that engorged flesh deeper and deeper in his throat, his sucking helped by the raven's hand constantly pushing his head downward and also by his thrusting in the silverette's mouth. After one minute, the shaft was entirely sucked in. Seeing his tongue growing more playful on the raven's length, lapping alternatively at the bud and at a swollen vein going from the base and traversing the entire hardness, right before pouncing on the raven's balls, it seemed the silver head was enjoying it more and more.

From time to time, he would tilt his head and cast a desperate glance at the raven, mouth stuffed with meat. His hair would fall aside, spill down on his shoulder in waves and glimmer even more beautifully in the dimness of the car, just like the petals of a gardenia in the neon light. The tanned man could see Squalo's ass shudder in anticipation.

Xanxus' ruby orbs were entranced by that vision. Just what could be greater than seeing the silver haired beauty tasting his first dick and loving it? And he, Xanxus, had been the only one to see it; he had been the only one to break him in.

"…It's enough." He grunted and made the silverette climb on top of him again. He then softly wiped with his thumb Squalo's lips, which were dripping with saliva. "You know what you have to do next."

No more words needed. Squalo positioned himself on top of the other male's hardness and, at a snail's pace, went down, down… until the head went in.

"Mmh…" He moaned a soft moan that made Xanxus che-ed.

"Don't fucking feel aroused with only this." The tanned man fumed. "Go lower, you whore."

Once more, Squalo did as he was told and eased himself down onto the taller man. "Aah… Haan!" He cried suddenly, a white spurt gushing from his erection when Xanxus was all the way in, and soiling the other man's stomach.

"You _came_?" The raven inquired teasingly. "You fucking _came_? You truly are a whore, if the feeling of a dick up in your ass is enough to-"

The raven was hushed by a voracious kiss from the silverette on his lips. Their tongues intertwined lustfully in his mouth. Soon enough, his hips lifted up again before lowering once more on that hot, pulsating member.

"Hah!" Squalo finally gasped for air, his whole body trembling desperately on the raven'. Squalo's hands went behind his back and squeezed at his ass, making the tightness around Xanxus almost unbearable. He cursed in his inner self. It had been a bad idea to let the trash in charge. Just at the look in the greyish orbs, he could swear that man was going to eat him alive.

The smaller man was writhing avidly, moving restlessly in an increasing rhythm, and to each one of his rocking, the raven would answer with a matching thrust. Xanxus kept on surging and ebbing under him, his hands holding tight at the silver haired man's waist while the latter's ass was slamming on his thighs. They were now moving so hard against each other it made the car creak and rock beneath them.

The smaller man cried. "Xanxus… It's good… Mm-aa! Shit…"

"It's good, you say?" Xanxus smirked and bit at the other male's naked shoulder, tasting the salt of the sweat on it. "What is?"

"Your dick… it feels good in me… Mnn. Ah!... Better than fingers…"

The raven's eyes darkened. It stilled the silverette. "Ah? Fingers? Whose?"

The already flushed cheeks of the silverette reddened even more. "Tsk. What are you mad about? It happened only once… I was alone and turned on. That's a- Aan!"

Xanxus resumed his ramming, ruby orbs locking with greyish ones, and this time stronger and going deeper in the man on top of him. "You were alone and you used your fingers. How was it?"

"Ha… it was weird… doing it myself… Nnh…" Even now, everything was weird, Squalo wanted to say. Talking about that… At such a moment…

"How did you it? Where were you?"

"I was… Mm-aa… I was on the bed… On my knees… Haa… Aan! Xanxus!..."

"Keep on talking." The raven threatened. He couldn't tell anymore if the silver haired man was still aware of what he was doing or saying. Squalo was half-whining half-crying, his face a mask of lust and want. It seemed all of his mind couldn't focus on anything else but his release. But Xanxus had to insist. The picture of that curvaceous body finger-fucking himself was just too hot to be ignored.

"I put one… Then another… Fuck, Xanxus! Mmh… It was so hot inside… Ah!... I pushed it deeper, deeper… A-and that squelching sound… It wasn't bad but I… I wanted to feel more… Ngh! But I couldn't… It was so frustrating… Please, Xanxus, please, make me come!" At last, he gave up and threw his arms around Xanxus' neck.

The tanned man slightly pushed Squalo back and brought the latter's legs up, so that he was now unable to move by himself, his whole weight resting on Xanxus' lap. Squalo's hands gripped at the raven's knees not to lose balance. With that angle, Xanxus was driving deeper in the silverette, hitting dead at that spot that could always make the smaller man go mad.

And mad did the silverette go when Xanxus shoved himself again. His legs were growing numb, breathing was becoming painful. Right before his eyes he could clearly see the hard appendage going in and out of him, now and then hidden by the sight of his own arousal bouncing on his belly, the feeling always coming together with the slapping of the taller man's balls against his ass.

"Xanxus… Voi, Xanxus… I'm… !"

They climaxed together, both shuddering hellishly, panting. Both men remained unable to catch their breath for quite some time, tangled in each other's arms. The sensation had been so great, so craved, Squalo simply abandoned himself in the depths of oblivion. He was propping himself on Xanxus, face buried in the other man's neck, his soft and regular gasp caressing the hair on it. His chest was heaving quietly against the raven's. Xanxus could nearly hear the heart beat beneath that sweaty skin. Such a restful sound.

Had the silverette lost consciousness? Because of all that hair covering his face, Xanxus couldn't tell. Strangely, none of them wanted to part. They just stayed there, motionless and silent. Xanxus was stroking unconsciously the long silvery mane. Now he thought about it, maybe he had missed that sensation, for all those days. It had truly been a relapse, a fatal one for him. And maybe he truly liked being like this and having the other trash lying next to him…

Finally, no, he thought. He didn't want to lose all of this.

TBC


	14. Why cramming a clam

Once again, thank you for reading and following this story, guys! It's hot like hell here right now and i feel my back can melt into sweat.

And also, when i first planned writing this fanfiction, i supposed the whole story wouldn't be longer than 14 chapters. Finally, i'll make maybe 20 or so.

Enjoy~

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Xanxus was watching the town center being displayed behind the smoked window pane of the limousine. Outside, it was raining cats and dogs, the sky was darkly clouded and a violent wind was blowing wickedly on the passers-by. Japan was never a good place to stay by this time of the year. For the nth time of the day, the radio was warning the listeners of a typhoon that would soon reach the west coast of the main island. What a dull and boring weather. Moreover, no plane was allowed to take off until the weather forecast got better, that is, not before a least four days. Xanxus had to stay in Japan during the entire damn storm.

"We _will hear more from our special correspondent …"_

"Trash," Xanxus demanded to the chauffeur, finally exasperated by the never-ending weather report, "change channels. I'm fucking fed up of that shit."

"Yes, sir." The man complied with eagerness.

Now, a soft music was filling the car. It wasn't transcendent, but still it was better than the announcement of a near apocalypse coming straight above their heads. On the rear seat, the raven didn't particularly pay attention to the song and kept on looking outside.

That peculiar color of the clouds, it somehow reminded the tanned man orbs the same shade, and the lightning that would from time to time light it up the shallow glistening breaking the monotony every time a certain silverette would glare at him for a reason or another.

And at that memory, without his consent, his mind brought the raven back to what happened last night in that parking. The very same greyish eyes half-hidden by long and thick silvery eyelashes. The silver haired beauty had been able to look Xanxus in the face as he literally threw him out of his life:

The silver haired man was buttoning his shirt up, the tail of it only veiling his most intimate parts while bare legs were fully exposed to lazy ruby orbs. In the half-dimness of the place, only now and then interrupted by the flash of a car that was leaving the car parks, Squalo's skin looked fairer than usual, his silver mane glistening like a platinum river. He was quieter than usual, too, even after being that loud only few minutes ago.

"I'm going to go back home now." He said unceremoniously whilst slipping his boxer then his pants on. As he talked, never once did he look at the tanned man.

Xanxus took his phone and started dialing a number. "I'll give you a lift."

"It's okay. It's not that late. I'll just take a cab-"

"I'm fucking dropping you home." The raven insisted, his attention now entirely on the smaller man. What did _that_ mean? It was as if the silver haired trash was trying to run away from him. Was he angry? Xanxus didn't give a flying fuck about that. On the contrary, he was the one who should feel irritated. After all, earlier in the restaurant, wasn't he with that shithead Cavallone again? No matter how the raven looked at it, that cheating scum was the guilty one. "I'll call you later. You'd better be free then."

Squalo remained silent, immobile next to the raven, but lips slightly parted as though he wanted to say something. His attention was lost somewhere between his shoes and the floor, his face blank, void of emotion.

"Xanxus…" He said after a while. "Let's stop this."

It was Xanxus' turn to be silent, then, "stop what?"

"This. What we're doing. It's going nowhere…"

"Everything seems fine by me, you dumb trash. If you're not happy, just put up with it."

"For Lord's sake, Xanxus, you're fucking getting married!"

"Aa." The raven was glaring defiantly. "So what? This has nothing to do with you."

"Vooi," Squalo knocked his fist against the back of the seat, greyish eyes so heavy one could tell they had witnessed the worst in this world, looking daggers at the taller man. His voice then raised, low and vicious. "What you're telling me to do is to wait for you like your motherfucking bitch for when you feel like getting your freak on?"

The raven huffed. Yeah, he wanted to reply, but said nothing. He knew what would be the silverette's reaction if he had dared. Squalo, though, understood it very clearly. "Screw you!" The silverette yelled at him. He got out of the car and brutally slammed the door behind him.

Back to that stormy morning.

"That goddamn trash…" Xanxus grunted as the image of Squalo's back was making itself more and more distant in his mind. Suddenly, his mind returned to the present, more exactly to a white smartphone that didn't belong to the tanned man. He just found it earlier when he got in the car, lying on the rear seat. "He even forgot his shitty phone."

"Yes?" The chauffeur asked, his reflection in the rear-view window looking at the raven. "Did you say something?"

"I didn't, you moron. Look at the damn road."

"My apologies, sir."

The car became silent again. Only the song on the radio was playing softly, like a hush. Xanxus, who was not be a mood to think about work for once, but in the same time didn't want to think about his messy sentimental life, started listening to it, though only half of it. However, the more he was listening, the more the words were forming coherent sentences in his brain.

… _and everything about you._

 _Baby, come back_

 _You can blame it all on me_

 _I was wrong and I just can't live without you_ …

"Change that goddamn channel right now, you dickhead!" Xanxus roared at the speechless driver, then stomped irately on the car floor. It was going to be a very long trip to the head office, for both of them.

…

That night, Squalo just disappeared from Dino's sight, taken away by a raging tanned man who left a real mess in the restaurant where they had been tranquilly having dinner, only ten minutes sooner. The waiters were panicked and trying – with difficulty, that was an understatement – to keep the other customers from making a ruckus on their own but also from leaving the restaurant for a little while (Dino could understand why: Xanxus was surely making a scene outside). Gokudera Jouji was fuming about his son-in-law being undiscoverable and unreachable. He blamed Dino for ruining their dinner and Dino, on the other hand, didn't even try to clear himself of.

Of course, he had nothing to do with that crap. If the blond had known Xanxus would be at _that_ restaurant _that_ night, he would have _never_ invited Squalo there, absolutely no way in Hell.

But the fact was the rendezvous he had planned with his beloved silverette was totally spoiled. And still, this time, he had put all his courage in inviting Squalo. Just how many days and how many nights had he spent dreaming about only a night with the silver haired beauty? It wasn't as though it was a passion that had popped up overnight, that was sure.

Yet everything happened in the twinkling of an eye, everything ignited weeks ago by only a 'what if?'

Yes, what if, back then, at the graduation ceremony, he had waited for Squalo's answer? Would it still be a no? And that answer he gave, 'I can't'… Squalo actually never said no, so what if the situation hadn't been the same?…If Xanxus hadn't been there, did that mean he would have a chance, too?

How stupid! Everything was a jumble of regrets and incertitude in the young Cavallone heir's head. And that was in that state of mind – even more accented by a good bottle of vodka – that Dino called Squalo up on the phone in the middle of the night to invite the latter for a very simple and casual lunch the day after, all of this in a gibberish and a stammering that would have put a high school tsundere girl to shame. If there was something Dino had learnt from being Squalo's friend, that was, no matter what may happen, never _ever_ treat him like a woman. That is, no stupid things such as cinema, romantic ride on a lake, _nothing_ ; which, indeed, left the blond with very few options.

Nevertheless, the stuttering became all the more pitiful when Squalo hurriedly agreed on that lunch with Dino (it hadn't been a miracle, but let's just say that Cavallone had been pretty blessed that night since the call had been passed precisely few minutes after the silverette felt 'lonely' in his bed). Dino was so happy he didn't even notice the faint awkwardness in Squalo's voice before he hung up.

The next day, Dino got his 'date', the day after, too, and also the day after it. Soon, though, the blond realized where his unexpected luck had come from. But somehow, knowing that he was a replacement didn't disturb him that much. Of course, he felt a little pang in his heart when Squalo declared as nonchalantly as he could, one day they were sitting in a garden café not far from Namimori U, that Xanxus wasn't living in the apartment anymore, that it happened already few weeks ago. Dino felt sort of sad, but let none of his sorrow filter on his face. He had already lost years and years in hesitation and pity for himself, he wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes again.

At their next lunch and for the very first time, Dino was inviting him for diner, as churl as the implication of them spending a whole night together might sound. We're not going back to the fiasco that had occurred after.

Annoyed with Jouji's never-ending haranguing, Dino went to look for Squalo. To tell the truth, the blond already had little hope finding the silverette after seeing how the raven was angry and all. Nonetheless, he was worried: none could predict what Xanxus could do if he was truly irate. To reassure himself, he called Squalo up, but the silverette didn't pick up. So, what could the blond do? In point of fact, Dino wasn't used to this kind of situation, that is, having to fight for something he really wanted.

Like a dog that had lost his owner, he decided to go wait for Squalo at the entrance of the restaurant. Maybe he would come back there after he's… _done_ with Xanxus? Dino waited one hour, two hours. All the customers finally left the office building, the cars in the streets were decreasing in numbers, and the air was starting to get cold. At long last, rain began to fall on the blond mane.

"That's the best…" He groaned and looked at the night sky. "I hate this!"

What should he do now? Going back home? Impossible. He didn't want to see in the next morning's news 'cadaver of a young professor found strangled to death in the gutters of a famous restaurant'…

"Like hell!" Dino exclaimed in panic, his mind suddenly rising from gloom. "This can't happen, right?"

Fortunately, his Bentley wasn't parked that far. He drove at full speed to the silverette's building then, once there, leapt up the stairs to the sixth floor. His heart leapt in his mouth as he saw light filtering from under the apartment's door. Still anxious, Dino knocked frantically on it. Imagine his relief when a half-naked silver haired man opened up, a towel still covering his hair, a larger one draping his waist. He just got out of the shower.

"Voi, stupid Cavallone!" Squalo shouted crossly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

But Dino felt too relieved to answer. He just heaved a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around a flustered silverette. "I was so worried, Squalo! I waited outside the restaurant but you didn't come back. I thought something might have happened to you!"

The silver haired man strived to free himself from the blond's grip. "Voooi, I'm alright, so get off!"

Dino finally let go, and as he slowly moved away, he saw blood dripping on the silver haired man's chin. "Squalo, your jaw!"

Said man unconsciously pressed a thumb on the wound. "Ah, it's nothing. I was going to put alcohol on it anyway." He paused and frowned at Dino. "Voi, you're staying or you're leaving, do as you please, but close that damn door."

"Oh, my bad." The blond came in. "I called you but no one picked up."

"Um, really? I didn't hear anything." The silverette lay, his cheek slightly rosy. "But you, you look horrible." He was talking about the drenched hair and clothes and that tired look on the Cavallone's face.

"It's… nothing, too." Dino smiled, laughed lightly. "It suddenly started to rain and I just stayed outside like an idiot… But as long as you're fine, everything is alright."

The wrinkle between the silverette's eyebrows deepened. His thin lips contracted into a rictus that funnily looked a lot like a pout Dino was very well acquainted with – the guilty pout. It made his smile brightened, which made Squalo's furrowing worsen. "Don't fucking laugh at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you."

"Yes, you are!" He barked, yet went to fetch a dry towel in the laundry room, tossed it at the blond before entering his bedroom. "I've always hated that shitty side of you."

"Come on, I swear I'm _not_ laughing at you!" Dino maintained, still beaming like a little boy in Disneyland as Squalo appeared again, this time in pajamas, hair combed and a compress on his jaw.

Soon after, red wine was served to the irregular guest. When Dino joked about Squalo wanting to make him drunk, the latter plainly replied that lately he hadn't time to go to the grocery to buy tea or coffee. But then, when Dino joked about his friend starting to lose his housekeeper's instincts, the latter told him to go fuck himself. Dino burst out laughing.

Half an hour later, they were at their third bottle. As a matter of fact, Squalo had never really lost his 'housekeeper's instincts'. However, Dino forgot that the silverette had been with a drunkard for nearly two months, so it wasn't astonishing that wine and tequila and whisky had little by little replaced tea and coffee in his kitchen. But this isn't a detail an outsider like Cavallone ought to know.

At the fifth bottle, they were soused. Dino now was laughing out loud at a Squalo who couldn't distinctly say anymore how that idiot could cram anything at all. How they ended up reciting diction courses, none could tell anymore. Everything the young Cavallone knew was that he felt warm and at ease with the silverette. It's been so long… the last time they had been drinking and talking to each other like true friends.

"Squalo…" Dino mumbled to him.

Dino was sitting right on the floor, back resting against the couch where the silverette was lying half-drunk, half-drowsy. He had never seen Squalo as beautiful as that night, with his perfect features relaxed, with heavy eyelids and glossy lips matching the rest of the face, and narrow bony shoulders extended to arms the blond knew could be deadly when a sword was involved. And then the curvaceous body, the nicely shaped hips and legs. And that sweet scent that never leaves his soft skin, even more softened by the shower he just took.

At that moment Dino thought: that was Superbi Squalo, his only friend, the only one he knew in the world he could entirely trust in.

"Hey, Squalo, do you hate me?" He had to tilt his head backward to see the blush spreading vividly on Squalo's face.

"I don't … Sometimes, you're damn annoying, but I've seen worse."

Dino raised a little so that his chocolate eyes were at the same level as Squalo's. "That's not quite this, you know. I mean, you don't hate me and I'm glad you don't. But what I really wanted to ask you was different. I don't know how to put it… Geez, am I stupid? I've already asked you, but you know, your answer… I… didn't quite…"

A kiss hushed up Dino's blabbering.

TBC


	15. Why perseverance can lead you far away

Hell~o kids! Thank you so much for all the reactions for the last chapter. I was truly afraid i got Squalo OOC (and maybe he is finally) but i thought i needed to write him that way to make the story evolve.

So... i don't have many things to say, this time... That must be bc i spend all my days shut in my room. It's soooo weird, now i think about it. I'm not studying anymore, i still dont have a job, and all i do is writing, writing, writing...

But who cares? Enjoy ^o^ !

* * *

Squalo kissed him. At first slow and feathery, the kiss gradually grew hungry and intense. How soft and warm were the silverette's lips… Even in his drunken incoherency, Dino couldn't help but sipping and suckling and capturing them between his teeth till they were fully swollen. However the young Cavallone definitely was too drunk to keep on. Although being seated, he quickly lost balance and collapsed on the ground, bringing in his fall the other male who fell on top of him. Which, all things considered, didn't trouble them beyond measure.

The silver haired man's spine bent into a luscious arc as Dino licked behind his auricle, the latter's tongue making a backward and forward motion that elicited faint moans and pants from the man lying on him. It was almost nothing, yet it had been enough to make the Cavallone heir's blood boil with yearning. He pulled gently at Squalo's waist, making him go lower, his thighs rubbing against the silverette's. The shudder that went through his limbs didn't go unnoticed by the blond.

"Squalo…" He whispered, and as he did, braced himself on his elbows. Glossy locks fell on his cheeks, caressing them. Dino loved how they felt on his skin, just like sheer silk. Finally giving way to his urges, Dino pushed the silverette down and pulled at his t-shirt, just enough to reveal the rosy flesh of his abdomen. Dino's mouth devoured the tasty skin, slid his fingers from Squalo's neck to his flank, his consciousness slowly but surely sinking in the delightful promises the silverette's body were suggesting to his blurry eyes. But when his lips began wandering too near the latter's waistband, Squalo suddenly woke up from the haziness in which the wine had plunged him.

"Voi… Dino, stop it!" He pushed the blond's head away. Dino looked quite dumbfounded: he had no idea if his surprise came whether from the fact Squalo actually stopped him, or from the fact he did it _only_ now. "I… I'm tired. And I have to go to sleep. I still have work to do, tomorrow."

"I got it…" Dino backed up. He reverently pulled the long haired man's t-shirt down, as though what he had been about to do few seconds earlier was the worst heresy possible. He had a very bad feeling about this. After all, he didn't know what had happened to Squalo after he left with Xanxus. Maybe the silverette was sad or angry about something, and he just took advantage of his friend's state, just because he had drunk a little too much… Alas, the biggest treachery of the awakening passion is to counterfeit the duty. There may be a whole life spoiled, who cares! You need because you need. "I'm sorry, I went too far. I shouldn't have done this…"

"You're annoying. Stop worrying for every little shit."

"Really?…So, good night? I… Um, I can call you tomorrow?"

The silverette sit up and rubbed his eyes. It was tiresome to always have the blond asking his permission for the smallest thing. "Yeah… See you tomorrow."

Dino left the apartment, then the building. It still was raining, but now with more persistence than before. However, as the Cavallone heir switched the ignition of his car on, a thought couldn't exit his mind and instead just left a wide and naïve smile on his lips.

"He just said 'See you tomorrow'?" Dino said, overjoyed.

That night, and contrary to Squalo who kept on reviewing again and again scenes with the raven and his childhood friend, Dino slept very well. Things started to get clouded only the next morning, and it wasn't because of hangover – fortunately for him, the Cavallone heir had always had a fair tolerance to alcohol (yet way lower than the raven).

Had it ever happened to you, to have an idea you find really awesome before you go to sleep, but when you wake up in the morning you suddenly fathom how stupid and unrealistic the same idea can be? Because that was what was troubling the blond: how could he seriously face Squalo as though nothing ever happened, the day right after they almost had sex together? It was beyond the Cavallone heir's strength. There was humiliation, but also mere shyness. The good old friendship status quo was bust, so what were they supposed to be now? And in spite of everything, Squalo allowed him to stay by his side, knowing full well Dino's feelings for him, did that just mean…

"Does that mean he approves them? That maybe he too… Ga-aah!" The young Cavallone almost choked to death with his toast.

Just like a real little master, it was already 10 in the morning when he woke up. After a quick shower, he took his breakfast in his gown in the huge, modern kitchen of his holiday home. That house had been his pied-à-terre for all the duration of his last shooting which had ended… One month ago. Yet, as everyone had noticed, he _still_ hadn't left yet. His agent just had to make up for it.

On TV, they were breaking a typhoon on the news. How boring. Dino could clearly _see_ it was raining in torrents, he didn't need someone to tell him that. Everything that morning was boring: as always, he was having breakfast all alone in that desert house. And as always, all he could bring himself to prepare without setting the kitchen on fire was buttered toasts, a carton of orange juice and Kelloggs corn flakes. Seeing what he called a breakfast and comparing it to the wonder of gastronomy he knew the silverette was capable of, he felt even more depressed. Finally, choking his tears back, Dino took another bite of the deadly toast.

What was he going to do, then? Wait for Squalo in that bistro again? Anyway, with that shower, they were probably closed. "I should call him first…" He decided and dialed the silverette's number on his phone.

It was ringing, ringing,… At long last, Dino almost rang off when someone finally picked the phone up.

"Um, Squalo?" He said in the receiver. "It's me. Are we still having lunch at La Garde? With that rain I think it's a little… Or if you want, I can bring you to a sushi bar. I know a good one not far from-"

" _Cavallone_." A deep and raucous voice Dino immediately recognized as being Xanxus' demanded.

At that moment, Dino's words got stuck in his throat. Horrified, he just remained like a wax statue on his chair, pale and agape.

…

People in companies like holding meetings. It's always the best moment to show your PowerPoint skills and to look more intelligent than usual. Plus, there are snacks for those who are forced to attend it, and if they look well, they can find a blind spot where they can take a nap while some guy is explaining why teamwork is so _primordial_ … To make it short, it's a win-win covenant.

VR Co. isn't departing from the rule. It seemed to Xanxus that the only times he saw his employees' faces, it was always at stupid meetings whose themes he couldn't help but forget the second he put a step out of the boardroom. Same goes for the faces of said employees.

"Hello, Xanxus!" Byakuran friendly waved a hand at him as the Board left the room one member after the other. Xanxus ignored him royally and continued scrolling on his phone while walking to his office. "Don't be so cold! Aren't we brothers-in-law now? My stepfather told me about yesterday's dinner with the entire family. Bianchi is a lovely woman, isn't she?"

"Dunno." The raven kicked the door of his office open. The white haired man just gave a quick smile at Hana then followed the tanned man inside.

"But Hayato is quite perplexed about all this. Oh, Hayato is my stepbrother. A real sweetheart. You know, the young one…"

"Dunno."

Xanxus hadn't thrown the nosy white haired man out yet, but that sudden humanity wasn't a result of a 'long and laborious work on himself'. He was simply too engrossed by a throughout inspection of Squalo's phone. So far, he hadn't found anything compromising yet. To be more precise, there was almost _nothing_ to see: no contact, no Internet history, no memo; just _nothing_. It was nearly as though the stupid trash had absolutely no life at all apart from the college and stupid housework. But when the raven's beliefs started to be confirmed by the singular lack of life in the smartphone, unexpectedly, he found something – honestly, something he didn't want to find in the first place: a photo of him asleep, most likely in the silverette's bed.

He stared idiotically at the screen, in his inner self anger little by little taking precedence over embarrassment. When did that shitty scum take that stupid photo? If he had been aware of the existence of that shit, he surely would have killed the dumb trash. Anyway, Xanxus _had_ to kill him for that! It was only a matter of time. Besides, what should he do with it? Delete it? Of course, yes, he had to. Every single cell of his brain that hadn't been destroyed by booze yet was telling him to delete-delete-delete the damn proof of a moment of vulnerability, but in the same time… In the same time, he couldn't bring himself to do so.

"Love affairs really aren't easy, are they?" Byakuran, who was now sitting in front of Xanxus at the latter's desk, asked, out of the blue. "If I were you, I'd check the logs instead."

"Shut your mouth." Xanxus grunted but then opened the phone call list. Nervous twitch at the corner of his lips: a number, always the same one, kept on coming back over and over again, in intervals more or less spaced, every call lasting at least four minutes. "What the fuck…"

"Did you find something useful?" Byakuran asked, obvious sarcasm shining on his features. "You know, there's a green button, right there. If you want to make a phone call..."

"Scum. I fucking know how to make a goddamn call. A lousy rat like you-"

 _Brrp. Brrp_.

For the second time, the raven stared with an empty air at the screen of Squalo's phone. That hellish number was glowing in a blue light, as if it was mocking him. He picked up. Immediately, a charming and annoying voice flooded in his ear, provoking a grimace of irritation on the tanned face.

"Cavallone." He hissed. "Stop that motherfucking chattering of yours."

"… _Xanxus? … Is Squalo with you? I just wanted to confirm something from him_ …"

Xanxus flopped in his armchair and took a deep breath. Legs crossed and forehead resting on his folded arm, he said with a tone cooler than usual. "Shithead. I don't fucking know what you two did and I don't give a fuck about what you're up to do now. But forget it. Don't ever come close to the other trash again. I swear I'll fucking tear your shitty eyes out of your damn head ("How cruel!" Byakuran puffed) and make you eat them if I ever see you-"

" _Xanxus_!" Dino suddenly shouted with an intensity that surprised himself. " _Can you stop that? How you treat Squalo. It's just so unfair, so mean… You're perfectly aware of what Squalo's feelings for you are. You're only using them to get what you want! You know, I… I love him. Yeah, you may hate it, but I won't let a hopeless asshole like you treat him as if he was some lousy whore you've found at the corner of the street!_ "

"You jerk…"

 _Beep_.

Wherever some great love is hidden one should always expect a great ire. This is what Xanxus was undergoing at the moment. He was fuming – fuming, smoking, about to burst. So instead he burst Squalo's phone by throwing it against the wall. Who did the Cavallone think he was? A clueless idiot? That little shit was already dead meat. Even if he had to rape the stupid silver haired scum a second time, he _would_ make the blockhead Cavallone understand who his true owner was.

Fuck. Even though he tried to put some distance between them, the silverette sure had his way to mess up with Xanxus' temper. That was why he couldn't let that hellish trash stay around him. Around the silverette, Xanxus would only end up losing his cool and, just like a wild horse blinded with blinkers wouldn't even notice his fiery legs carrying him to a precipice.

In Squalo, he saw his downfall, and yet Xanxus simply _couldn't_ kick him out of his life.

"Prick. Get out." Xanxus barked at Byakuran, still glued at his spot. He then got up, his aura a frightening halo glowing threateningly around his head.

The white haired man backed away from the other man towards the double doors to the hallway. "Aye, aye! You know where you can find me if you want marshmallows. Ah. Ieyasu." He paused when the older man came in Xanxus' office. "The boss is very happy, right now. You can ask him whatever you want."

"Get the fuck out!"

"Yo, Xanxus…" Ieyasu inquired. Alerted by the raven's sudden fit or temper, he tried to hold him back. "Where are you going?"

"Get out of my way. That motherfucker who is fancying himself a bloody Romeo is gonna bleed his addle-brained from his eyes."

In normal times, Ieyasu would have ignored him. He would have just let the raven go and only tell him not forget doing his homework. But that day, the older man was angry: the day before, his son called him a useless father, a burglar broke into his house and stole his brand new Nissan, and that morning when he started the dated Ford, the gauge showed a very majestic and stylish 0. No need to say it had been a real pain to try to catch a taxi with that lousy weather. So you should figure out how weary Sawada Ieyasu was when he crossed the door of his boss' office, only to see said man raging because of some childish fight… That was the last straw.

"And that fucking bitch fooling around with any-…!"

That silent exclamation, it had resulted from the thunder-like blow the older man dealt in the raven's stomach. The latter fell on the carpeted ground. "You damn…" He hissed while glaring nastily at Ieyasu.

"Now, you get over with that, you spoiled brat!" Ieyasu yelled angrily at the flabbergasted raven. Actually, it was the first time in his life someone was openly rising up against him. And the older man really looked exasperated. Xanxus didn't truly know how to react at that sort of situation. He was angry beyond words, that was true, but he had also that sort of stupor you're stricken with when an electric current brusquely run through your body. "I'm fed up, _so_ goddamn fed up with your whims! _Everyone_ here is! I'm tired of giving you everything you want on a silver plate and yet see you spoil everything, every time. I can't believe I gave up my family to take care of you. How many birthday parties have I missed since I started working for you, my wedding anniversaries, my son's graduation… If it hadn't been for your father ( _che riposi in pace_ ), I'd have let you manage everything alone, dammit! But you know what? There is finally someone, not one of your whores and silly young girls, who sincerely cares about you, a wonderful person who can put up with your oversize ego, and you call him a _fucking bitch_? You complete moron!"

"Don't fucking call me a moron, you old fart."

"I call you a moron because you _are_ one." Ieyasu crouched before the tanned man. A sigh of fatigue. "Xanxus. I'm happy you thought about getting married. I know I didn't give you the best example of married life. Now, one must face facts: I'll die alone, and so will you if you keep on like this. Your father wouldn't want that. That's why I'll give you a hand – yeah, even if you're a hopeless moron. Your boyfriend ("I don't have a damn _boy_ friend") is what you call an incurable lover, that is, the desperate type. (Don't mock me, I tell ya, I'm helping ya! Stupid brat). There are a lot of people like him who can love a love without hope, only devotion. They improve themselves every day in order to be worthy of whom they're in love with, they can make thousands of secret sacrifices, adore them from afar, give their blood drop by drop, immolate their self-respect, have no egotism or wrath with them, they can hide their jealousy, give the loved ones anything they may wish, albeit to their own detriment, like what they like and-"

"Make it short, old man. That's boring."

Ieyasu cast a bushed and dejected look on the man he had tried to raise like his son (in the same time forgetting about his own son) before heaving a sigh, deeper and longer than the previous one. "At least, have you ever done something nice for him?" No answer would have been more eloquent than the total emptiness in the raven's eyes. "Xanxus… At any rate, what were you going to do? You're not stupid enough for actually killing someone in broad daylight, are you? Ah! ah! If I let you continue like this, I won't be surprised to see you spying upon Squalo some day…"

"…"

Ieyasu paused. "You're not planning to do that, are you…"

"…"

"For God's sake… Come on. You saw Squalo yesterday, right? Don't play dumb. My job is to know this kind of thing. What did he tell you?"

Xanxus frowned, but still replied. "He said he wanted to stop."

"Why?"

"Because I'm getting married."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him to put up with it."

Ieyasu hushed a curse. "Now, you're gonna do this: stay here, sit down _calmly_ , and think about all the nonsense you've said your whole lifetime."

TBC

* * *

 ** _Che riposi in pace_** : rest in peace


	16. Why Hitchcock did a great job on us

Kaaaay so here is the 16th chapter... i truly wanna thank everyone for reading and following this story, and particularly Panda-san! for always giving me precious advice for improving the story.

Thank u so much! I'll try to correct everything i did wrong until now.

Now enjoy please! (^^)

* * *

Fucking hangover. He knew he shouldn't have drunk that much the night before, Squalo thought while rubbing at his forehead. He was used to take care of drunkards and hangover stricken people, not to undergo one himself. And even the cool breeze the storm was bringing on the city could change nothing. The silverette liked this kind of weather, though. It was relaxing, the low murmur of the rain hitting on the window panes, on the roof, on the grassed ground of Namimori U, the peculiar scent of it slowly but surely lulling and soothing his thoughts. How comely. It seemed it had been ages since the last time it rained like this.

But it wasn't time to ponder on the pulchritude of the weather. He was done with that day's work, and God, he was grateful for that – seriously, what was so frightening in dissecting a goddamn pig? If it had been a human body, Squalo could have somehow understood the swoons and screams (from both female _and_ male students) and vomiting and faces turning as white as lab coats, but a _pig_? That day indeed had been a day full of blood and tears.

Squalo left the lab, impatient to find in the drawer of his desk a tablet of aspirin, when he bumped into a small group of students exiting a classroom.

"Squalo!... Sensei." Yamamoto greeted him with his usual radiant smile. "Were you looking for me? I just finished my last class, you can wait for me in the gymnasium…"

Geez, there was still that, Squalo grimaced. "No training for today, brat. I'm going back home."

"Ah? Why?" Takeshi uttered, his coffee eyes wide open. Superbi Squalo, _the_ Superbi Squalo was postponing a training session? Something didn't seem to be right. "It doesn't sound like you at all." The boy laughed but was automatically silenced by the dark aura surrounding the silverette. "Well… It's okay for me. You don't look to be under the weather too."

Yamamoto was beaming, in spite of Squalo's horrified stare. Was _that_ supposed to be a joke? "I'm too tired for those insanities." He said under his breath and moved past him, only to hear hurried footsteps behind him. That was Yamamoto, again.

"If you're going home, can I go with you? You live nearby, don't you? It's on my way, too…"

"Che. Don't get fucking …" friendly with me, Squalo almost said, but silenced as he spotted a huge crowd jamming the (yet) huge entrance double-doors of the building. For the older swordsman, it was the worst kind of crowd possible: girls squeaking, cooing and taking photos after photos. It was with no doubt a swarm of groupies, fangirls and addicts. And in the middle of this mob was standing out with his tall frame, bright blond hair and prince-like charming face, Dino Cavallone.

"Squalo! I've finally found you." He said whilst moving through the crowd toward the already annoyed silver haired man. "It's a real maze here. I couldn't help but lose my way at every nook."

"Eeeh, sensei! You knew Dino Cavallone?" An anonymous girl squealed. "No way!"

"No way!" Another one squealed. "It's so awesome!"

"So awesome!" The whole crowd burst. Now it was extending its tentacles around the silverette as well.

"I can't believe Dino is here, in Namimori U!"

"So this means you've finished the shooting of your last movie? I love all of them!"

"So do I!"

"Can I take a photo with you?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Nee, sensei, how come you know Dino Cavallone? Are you friends?"

"Shut the fuck up, stupid brats!" Squalo glared at the enthralled ladies. "And you (Dino) moron! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to give you something…" Dino replied with difficulty, with all the girls pushing and pulling at him. "Is there a place we can talk quietly?"

"I think it won't be necessary." Takeshi said. "With all that noise, _he_ will be here very soon…"

"Who?" Dino asked, but the complete silence that accompanied the young swordsman's word quickly answered to his question. Suddenly, the air around them felt a little colder. The girls started and, in a single motion, turned to look at the other side of the main corridor: a dark shadow was approaching, slowly, quietly, and as he drew closer, the features of a young and beautiful – yet intimidating – dark haired youth came into sight.

"Herbivores," Hibari Kyoya glared at the assembly, his amethyst eyes scrutinizing each one of the troublemaker. "I will not suffer you to disturb the calm of this place. Shall I bite you _all_ to death?"

"We're sorry!" The girls bowed and said I unison before all running away, as silently as a herd of herbivore groupies could, from the dreadful Student Council's president. Everything happened under Dino's bewildered glance. The latter nearly jumped when Kyoya laid his sinister stare on him.

"I did nothing wrong!" The blond waved frantically his hands. "They just started gathering around me. I swear I did nothing wrong!"

"Voi, kiddo, you're scaring the hell of him." Squalo spoke with evident derision. "A little more and he'll be peeing in his pants ("I won't!" Dino shouted indignantly), and you don't want your precious entrance to be dirtied with pee, do you?"

This remark made the president's eyebrow twitch with displeasure. "Anyway, this herbivore (his tonfa pointed at the blond) is a stranger, and strangers aren't allowed on the university's ground. I'll bite him to death."

Yamamoto held the president back before the latter could deadly hit the Cavallone heir (Squalo, of course, hadn't even raised a finger) "Come on, could you overlook it only for once?" He pleaded. "He said he did nothing against the rules."

"Get out of my way."

"Look. I'll have my father prepare for you his _special menu_. You've always liked it, do you remember? As much as hamburgers."

This time, Kyoya looked seriously at the younger swordsman. In spite of his impassive face, a glistening in his amethyst orbs was betraying his interest in Yamamoto's deal. He huffed. "You'd better not forget this, herbivore."

"I won't…" Takeshi smiled at him. "Oh, talking about forgetting things… Sensei?"

"Wha?" The silverette grunted irritably.

Yamamoto nervously averted his eyes. With the blond's appearance, he knew he would have no more occasions to ask what he was going to ask to his tutor. "Um… First Saturday of next month, are you free?" Dino stared inquiringly at him. Just what was that unexpected change of topic?

"How the fuck should I know?" Squalo barked. "Why?"

"It's the first intercollegiate baseball game for the autumn series." No sooner had the silver haired man asked than Kyoya replied. The latter was looking at neither of them. Arms folded and head tilted forward, he was staring darkly at the floor. At any rate, despite Kyoya's total indifferent air, the event in itself wasn't a minor one. It was even one of the biggest baseball contests of the year – although something Squalo had actually never heard of. However, being the Student council's president, Hibari Kyoya _had_ to be aware of those kinds of trifles.

"Yes, that's it." Yamamoto stated. "If you're free, can you attend it, please? I'd truly be happy if you did. But if you can't, it's all right." He added quickly, as though afraid of the silverette's reaction.

"Baseball?" Squalo scowled.

"Yes, baseball." Yamamoto bowed his head apologetically. It was obvious the older swordsman was reluctant to do anything unrelated to his work or fencing. That's why Squalo's answer practically bowled Takeshi over.

"Yeah, maybe." The silverette shrugged. "Whatever."

…

In that rainy afternoon, they had lunch in a new café, a snugger one where Dino Cavallone knew no one was going to ask for stupid things such as autographs from him. It was funny, though, Squalo was pondering. Back in high school, he would have never believed Dino Cavallone would become someday a famous model and then, few years later, a more famous actor. The very same Dino who was always so loath to draw people's attention on him. Something else was funny, that is, after all those weeks they had been together, he found out that detail only now.

Squalo had his head propped on his arm and was sipping lazily at the straw of his drink when Dino abruptly shoved a package under his nose. It was well ornate, ribbons and all.

"So, here it is." The blond said casually.

"What's that?"

"Well… I thought you'd need a new one. A new phone, I mean."

Grey orbs, as grey as the clouds outside, looked intently at the Cavallone heir. How did he know Squalo didn't have his phone anymore? And had he possibly…? "Voi… w-what is that for? I've asked nothing from you."

Dino's smile grew gentler, as if to apologize for the suddenness of his act. "I know you haven't. It's just a gift from me. You can refuse it if you want."

"No, it's okay…" The silverette hesitantly opened the box and started typing randomly on the gadget's screen. It didn't feel quite right. It was only a cell phone, wasn't it? So what was that turmoil in his mind?

"You still love Xanxus." Dino said, out of the blue, as if to answer to Squalo's question. It made the silver haired man froze on his seat with both embarrassment and anger. He looked up at the blond.

"Vooi, I've never had this kind of feelings for that damn bastard!"

Dino laughed. "You're denying it so zealously…" He paused and reached at the silverette's hand, at the other side of the table. Dino's hand was icy. Their eyes locked together. "You know, I really do love you. Even if I know you probably will never have the same feelings for me." A bitter smile. "After what happened yesterday, I realized things will always stay the same between us. For you, I'm at best a friend. But for me, you're the most precious thing I have in my life. That's why I just don't want to see you sad. I don't want anyone to hurt you. But I guess this finally can't be helped…Squalo," the grip of his hand tightened. "Am I really not good enough, even if it's only for staying by your side?"

A violent surge of disgust was rushing in the silverette's stomach. Not because of his childhood friend. In his heart of hearts, there was an unalterable, yet nearly unconscious certitude: that was Squalo's total incapacity of betraying the raven. Of course, if, in this case, one could ever talk about betrayal. But it was indeed that unconscious faithfulness which was disgusting Squalo. Xanxus was treating him like a mere bitch, he was aware of that fact, so why couldn't he get that asshole out of his head? He had seen women – he had seen Sarah – degrading themselves for the sake of a lousy bastard. They would weep at night, curse themselves for being toyed by such men, and nonetheless when said men deigned dropping by once in a while, they could smile lovingly at them, kiss them, love them as though every time was their last time together.

And there came Dino with all his sickening sweetness and soft words. He, Superbi Squalo, when did he become that weak for that dastardly to even think about such a covenant? For the very first time of his life, he was disgusted with himself. And he could do nothing about it. Go on and remaining Xanxus' thing? Or playing half-time lover with the Cavallone? This situation was totally absurd, totally dishonorable!

Before him, the blond still was holding his hand tightly. How irritating. But since the first time, everything about the Cavallone was irritating: his limitless naivety, his complete uselessness when it came to fight, his constant trying to become Squalo's "friend"… However, that was more or less what they finally became, in the end. The silverette's expression hardened. "Dino…"

"I won't ask you to do anything you don't like!" Dino exclaimed, half-raising from his seat. "I swear, even talking to you is enough for me. And looking at you. I'm already so happy I've found you after all those years, and that I got to talk to you about this."

"It's not that." Squalo got up. "Do you have any plan for this Friday? I've got nothing to do."

"Ah?" Dino gaped, but then grasped the long haired man's intention. "Aah! Yes! I mean, no, I'm free. If you're okay with it, can I pick you up?"

Squalo's thin lips stretched into a faint smile in an attempt of throwing away the last remnants of his pride. "Yeah. We'll do like this."

…

Those few last months, Tsuna had seen a lot of weird things happening around him. They all started when that weird sensei, Superbi Squalo, moved in the building. Well, maybe his life was too plain and normal, and for other people it could be completely different. Another thing is, in the first place, the young boy never got accustomed to have his father's boss, Xanxus, living upstairs. They never actually met, and it wasn't as if the guy stayed at home 24/7. His dad told him that one way or another this place was only Xanxus' town flat, so they likely won't see him that much. Tsuna was glad to hear that: the raven was truly scaring the hell of him.

Then Squalo arrived, and then he saw _that_ … Er, that weird scene in the newcomer's living. Tsuna had to admit one thing: they were kind of a good match, together. That is, both of them were scaring the hell of him. But with those two living in the same place, the vicinity became much noisier. Whether they were arguing together or had…had s-… Had se-… Were doing _it_ , they were noisy. They also looked pretty happy together. That's why Tsuna couldn't explain himself why all of a sudden Xanxus stopped coming around. More exactly, the raven wasn't particularly the sedentary type, not before he started living with Squalo. Something that would have looked utterly normal for the brunet one or two months earlier now seemed strangely odd to him.

But Squalo never let anything reflect on his usual behavior. With his students, with his co-workers and anyone else, he was always the "shark-like" teacher: brilliant and terrifying, loud and in the same time, sort of secretive. For instance, he never told anyone who was that handsome blond who seemed as if he had become good friend with him (Tsuna wasn't that acquainted with celebrities and all that jazz), few days after Xanxus left. The young boy regularly saw them leaving Namimori U together at lunch time, or the silverette's flat in the evening to come back most of time only few hours later, Tsuna couldn't exactly tell at what time. The blond was always smiling and talking to him with a rare courteousness. He gave the impression of being a nice guy. So was he his professor's new lover? The young boy had too many courses to review to actually ponder on the question.

And early in that foggy morning, as Tsuna went out to buy some stuff at the convenience store, another question rose in the brunet's mind: just who the hell was that guy who was furtively following the silver haired man all through his jogging while sneakily taking photos of him?

Tsuna obviously had no means to find out the answer. So, instead of following the young brunet, we'll go after the other youth – a boy more or less the same age as Tsuna, but with thick blond hair falling on half his face, thus perfectly hiding his eyes, and on top of which, if the hood of a black sweater hadn't hidden it, one could have spotted a small shiny tiara.

Belphegor shadowed his former tutor till they reached his building. But then, instead of going inside, Bel entered another one (an older ten-storeyed building), exactly at the opposite side of the street. He quickly ran to an elevator and pressed the '6' button. Few seconds later, he was in a small flat which, at first glance, looked like an ordinary one – apart from the fact that near the windows were scattered cameras, PCs, tablets and receivers. As soon as Bel entered the room, he jumped behind a professional camera whose lens was directed at the other side of the street, right on the silver haired man's flat.

The image was net and perfect. Fortunately, the weather got slightly better. It still was raining from time to time, but it was bearable; otherwise Bel would have never started that play. Thanks to the huge bay-windows both in the living-room and the bedroom, the blond could have a full sight on most parts of the silverette's apartment. As for the other rooms, small, practically indiscernible cameras had been placed almost everywhere in the apartment and even outside in the corridors of the building and in his office in Namimori U, and in order to get the videos, Bel only had to start his computer. No need to say the silver haired man's rooms were already bugged.

There is always something creepy and unhealthy in spying on adult people (even if watching over a child is always a good thing), however for Bel, the whole thing came just like a second nature. When he left his family for the nth time, and this time swearing he wouldn't go back again, the young blond had been confronted with the evidence that one couldn't go that far with only gums in their pocket.

During tough times, one naturally turns their eyes to a motherly figure to save them from their own destruction. In Belphegor's case, the 'mother' had always been a certain silver haired man. Bel wanted to impose himself to his former tutor again, but when he called Squalo's number, the latter hadn't been the one who picked up.

Bel didn't remember Xanxus anymore, neither did the raven. For those misfits, it was hard enough to recall a face, a voice _and_ a name in the same time. But fortunately for both of them, they still had some brains and soon grasped their situation of supply and demand.

Evidently, the prince didn't do it just for pleasure, but it sure amused him a lot, playing like in the Notorious or in the Rear Window movie.

On an enormous white board, he had indexed every single habits and comings and goings of the silverette, for each day of the week, had stuck up the photos of every single person Squalo had been talking to, the places he used to go, etc. The young boy was pretty satisfied with his work.

"0622. Shower in the bathroom. No change." He was reciting in a small Dictaphone.

"…0638. In the bedroom. Putting peasant clothes on. No change."

"…0701. Breakfast in the kitchen. Today's Thursday, so… eggs, bacon and tomato juice. No change. I'm hungry."

"…0715. Phone call n°… (He cast a quick glance at the screen of his computer) 23 from Dino Cavallone. No change."

At 0728, Bel finally let go of his camera and got out again, his Dictaphone replaced by a notebook: Squalo was off for work. A good point for the blond was his age: he could totally go unnoticed in Namimori U. All he had to do was to look as dumb and poor as the other students, with an old rucksack on his back and earphones hanging on his shoulders. With that attitude, he even made few acquaintances there.

At 1243, as Bel was following the couple in "Restaurant n°05". He spotted a paparazzi secretly taking photos of them from behind a newspaper. How annoying. The boss had specified he didn't want those vultures to hover around his property. And although being a misfit, Bel could actually comprehend Xanxus didn't want the world to know that the man he was banging was flirting in broad light with a screen idol. Right at the moment, there was already _well_ enough advertisement around the tanned man – and _not_ a good one. The blond already had to deal with at least ten of them only this week. In that kind of case, the boy's instructions were clear: getting rid of the guy and deleting all evidences, including the paparazzi himself. It didn't even take ten minutes for Bel.

His task done, the Prince came back to his seat at the other side of the bistro, well-hidden by a house plant. Suddenly, a light tap on his shoulder. The boy's features remained placid. No matter how one could look at him, Bel looked like an ordinary student lunching in an ordinary restaurant. He turned to look at the intruder behind his blond locks. It was a very tall man in a dark suit, with a stupid look plastered on his face.

"As ugly as always, you peasant." Bel snickered.

"Shut up, brat!" Levy fumed. "I got your message. Where is it?"

The boy took a long sip of milkshake. "The back alleyway. I don't know if the guy still is alive, but he sure was unconscious when I left him. Tell the Boss I'll send my 'gifts' at the usual hour." Bel tilted his head, his grin stretching wider. "Shishishi. If he can read them, of course. I heard there were a lot of problems in you guys' company. I'm impressed the Boss can manage them all. Is everything okay for him?"

"Humph. A kid like you doesn't have to stick your nose in the Boss' affairs."

"If you say so." The younger blond went back to his sipping, his eyes focused again on the couple while Levy was leaving the restaurant. They looked so natural, talking normally in that common place, those peasants. Bel couldn't help but compare the bright and smiling Cavallone with the dark and deranged raven. He snorted noisily. "Jealousy is nurtured with our doubts and becomes wrath, huh." Bel murmured.

TBC


	17. Why you shouldn't run in the corridors

Hey hey hey kids! It's super rainy here! I think you know this already... the finale is coming soon. OK generally, if it's a drama, it should have many, many maaaany chapters before it ends. But that's precisey what i hate about drama (i mean, drama like in soap operas). I think that making a story going longer and longer only to look more angstyish and all is only a waste of time, and i personally prefer story with a concrete evolution, concrete steps the characters have to overcome, and once it's over, it's over! (sorry if i'm rude. please dont hate me!)

i hope i didn't disappoint you with how the story turned to be. I wanted something a little 'mature' but finally i understood that if i myself didn't grow on the inside, my stories wouldn't as well. Anyway i feel (even if it's only a little) that i somehow improved since the times i first started to write fanfiction...

But maybe it's too much talking for now. PLease, enjoy \\(^o^)/

* * *

When Bel's 'gift' arrived in Xanxus' mailbox, the latter wasn't in his office yet. The raven had spent the whole day cloistered between four walls with an army of lawyers behind him, and another army of lawyers before him, each party whether typing with a devilish speed on their computers, ruffling through stacks and stacks of papers, or arguing/yelling/calling the other party names in a so distinguished way the whole pageant could be worth a Shakespearian play.

This kind of stuff could happen, now and then. Stupid prosecutions because of some stupid scumbag whining about some stupid short selling, whitewashing, tax evasions and other malversations since _his_ army of lawyers which was paid a generous amount every month precisely to avoid such inconveniences, didn't do their job right. The scaffold was already prepared in the tanned man's office for those incompetents. Literally.

Oh well, at least, it wasn't a matter of lousy environmental regulations. The raven could stand no more those fanatical ecologists and humanists blabbering all over the place about the company's 'evil' way of doing business. No, this time, it was merely the continuation of the pitiful case of few months ago.

Daulay had ranted. His attorneys had ranted. Law courts, press and investors had ranted. It all became a noisy and headache-inducing ranting all around the raven. And who knew how, but one day, Daulay's representatives just all started swanking about detaining indubitable evidences and compromising proves of each one of VR Co.'s venalities throughout the last months. A sheer load of bullshit. Xanxus almost burst out laughing hearing that threat. In the end, the Danish was only frustrated by the loss of Byakuran's support after WHS Holding dumped them for VR Co, thus allowing the latter to devour the former. Completely.

Nevertheless, even a worthless trash like the Danish wouldn't bark those insanities with no reason. Was it possible that someone had sold them information about VR Co.? And if that was indeed the case, who was that person and how did they succeeded obtaining them? While the lawyers were making their show, Xanxus virtually drew up a list of potential Judas.

Alright. Now, the issue was only this: search and destroy. Search for the mole and destroy it, pitilessly, implacably. But who could, in the same time, reach the Holy of Holies of the company – the unspeakable truths behind its apparent success – and take advantage of it?

"It _has_ to be someone from the inside." Ieyasu murmured to Xanxus after eight _long_ hours of a non-stop interrogatory. The lackeys of the Attorney had at least the decency of giving them food (insipid sandwiches and horrid coffee). Normally, VR Co.' Board and main staff members weren't allowed to talk to each other, but Sawada Ieyasu being the CEO's personal counselor, he was the only exception. "I'll make my men dig in that crap. They should find out who the culprit is within three or four hours."

"You have one hour." Xanxus grunted. They were in a white and sterilized room those trashes called a refectory. He was sitting on a table, an old and moldy sandwich in a dish before him, but he actually couldn't tell whether he was the one eyeing at the sandwich or if the sandwich was the one staring at him. "I fucking can't stand this goddamn place. Hey, scum," Xanxus called at the older man before he left. "Daulay. You already know what you have to do about that fucker. And I want a proper work."

Just like in the Holy Scriptures, so it was.

The last hour of examination had been the worst one. Xanxus was hungry, thus irritable; he was tired, thus even more irritable. But fortunately for him, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof: exactly one hour after their discussion, Ieyasu came back with a name. Byakuran was the one to beat.

Barely twenty minutes after they released the raven, when Sawada's subordinates found the white haired man, he was in the dining-room of his hotel suite, smiling, nearly beaming at the group of hired men who had broken in the place in the middle of the evening.. The man hadn't even tried to defend himself or deny anything. No guard could be seen around the place. Saying that Byakuran was a real fox who had more than one trick up his sleeve, was an understatement.

"I want a parley. Now." He said very simply despite the fact that a silencer was aiming at his temple.

Xanxus came in, just like a ghastly and earthbound Thanatos, his crimson eyes filled with disdain and scorn and boredom, his face a mask of solemn annoyance, from the double-door entrance of the suite. They couldn't meet at the head office. It was an absolutely no-no choice since it had become some kind of new headquarters for the Attorney general. Xanxus didn't even give the impression he was aware of Byakuran's presence. Ieyasu, as always, was following him from behind.

Then it was time for business, and the first one to speak was the first to lose.

"Nice to see you this evening, Xanxus." Byakuran greeted. Okay, this didn't actually count.

Xanxus took place at the head of the table in the 'dining-room' "Shut the fuck up, you motherfucking puss." An underling lit the cigar between the tanned man's lips. A deep inhalation, breathing out, then a thick white cloud. "Or I'll cut your fucking tongue. Right at the spot."

Byakuran eyed joyfully at him. "My, you're tired, I assume. The interrogatory must have been tedious."

The metallic clunk of a gun. Magazine loaded. "You do have a fucking death wish, shitty trash."

The white haired man chuckled lightly. That was Byakuran, the soft and sophisticated young dandy who made fortune with his stepfather's money. And few meters from him, Xanxus, a man who made his name with sweat and blood and guts (mostly other people's). His father indeed gave him the basement, but he had been the one who made a fucking castle out of a fucking shanty. Did that young-master-shit believe he could fuck him and get out of the crap he made that easily?

"Let's talk like gentlemen." Ieyasu's voice raised. That old man had his serious face specially made for serious situations. "Byakuran, you have something we want, and we have something _you_ want. From that basis, everything's okay for both of us. All we have to do now is to settle the conditions for the deal. First, you, Byakuran. We want you to delete all data, documents, recordings of any sort implying personal and professional transcription involving VR Co. currently in your hands or in one of your employees and/or-"

"I got it, Ieyasu. I got it. Now, _my_ conditions." Byakuran cut drily, his expression suddenly as hard and icy as his eyes, though his voice would have sounded a little, scarcely shaky for an expert. "I want your watchdogs away from Shouichi. No more prowling around. No more threatening. I want you to leave him alone. You forget him, you forget you ever became interested with him in the first place, and why you did."

The room became silent. On his seat, Xanxus looked like he was asleep. Byakuran, though, was fully awake. His usual countenance back, the white haired man took a look at his watch. He smiled. "God, it's already 10 p.m. This dear Daulay must be dead by now."

…

Gokudera was lost in deep thoughts, eyebrows knitted and arms folded on his desk. When he was in that kind of state, his eyeglasses would always slid lightly on the bridge of his nose, making him look a little like an old granny. About that, Tsuna had never told the young silverette. Fortunately, the classes were over and all the students apart from them two had left the classroom, so no one was going to witness that not-so-cool part of him.

"So, you're telling me that someone has been stalking that sensei for some time now." Tsuna nodded. "That it's some weirdo you've never seen before, but lately you saw him attending the same courses as us. " Tsuna nodded again. "And you're asking me to do something about it?" Again, a nod. "Umm…"

"I'm sorry, Gokudera!" Tsuna bowed diffidently. "I know I shouldn't ask this from you, but Yamamoto is always training for his games, I don't want to bother him with my doubts. And apart from him, I don't know anyone who exactly did _have_ a talk with sensei. Yeah, I know, you didn't either! But I swear it had become really strange, lately! I-I don't know exactly when it all started, and at first I thought he was a guy I've seen here but forgot afterward… But now I'm sure he isn't! His name isn't even in the university's registry! When I come back home, he's there, and when I leave in the morning, he's also there. Sometime I see him talking with other students, so I asked them if they knew him, but they said he was only guy they were hanging with now and then. No one knows who he truly is!"

Hayato listened to his friend with a sincere attention. As a matter of fact, he didn't have any particular problems at helping the brunet. On the contrary, he would have been glad to do his friend that turn… If it hadn't involved _that_ Superbi Squalo. He still didn't truly understand what happened that night in the restaurant. Just what was the relationship between him and Xanxus? How did they ever meet? And finally, what Tsuna had witnessed, was it possible that everything was connected? It was a total jigsaw for Hayato.

But something else also was titillating him about the long haired man – a way more shameful and unavowable detail that he himself couldn't exactly pinpoint. It was that little wrench, that inner anger, that sensation of helplessness the youth felt every time that baseball freak was talking to or about the older silver haired one. At those moments, Hayato recalled, Yamamoto's face was expressing nothing but utter fondness and admiration. This was annoying Hayato. It was annoying him deeply, even if he couldn't tell why.

He obviously never said anything about this to Tsuna. What's the point? As a matter of fact, he had never been particularly close with Yamamoto, and never intended to. He was a mere acquaintance, the kind of guy you can see and talk to for the entire day without ever mingling with their life or knowing anything particularly important about them.

Expect the fact that he got used seeing and talking to that moron day after day and, to some extent, learning more about him, about what he liked, about his family and that goddamn baseball thing the idiot would ramble on and on. Hell, Hayato even got used attending each one of the other idiot's baseball training since their first year of high school, and this even if Tsuna couldn't come. At those times, he would only say he came on Tsuna's behalf, but he personally didn't give a fuck about the idiot winning or losing those stupid matches.

But now things were just so different… he didn't like that stupid look the dark haired boy had with the older swordsman, the time that freak was spending with him, the impression of being slowly but surely pushed aside.

And all those facts added together actually fathered in the young man an unknown animosity toward the older silverette.

Hayato simply couldn't and _wouldn't_ tell Tsuna about that. So it didn't leave him with other options but accept the smaller boy's request. "Okay, okay. I'll help you." He agreed. "What do I have to do?"

…

"Almost 7 p.m. and still no reply from the Boss." Bel remarked. He was eating instant noodles, eyes fixed on the fifteen small videos on his tablets and PC, each one showing whether an empty room in Squalo's apartment, a corridor in the building or his office at Namimori U. The silver haired peasant was nowhere to be seen. In general, if the target wouldn't be found at one of those spots – consequently if he was moving – the blond should be following him and keep on recording what he was doing and with who he was doing it. But that day was a tad different for Belphegor.

It was a very, very boring evening. Finally the grey weather had taken out its color on the youth. Normally, by that time, Xanxus would have sent him a message with new instructions for his next move… But at the moment, nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

"Aaa. Did he forget it?" He asked out loud, though he was the only one in his small flat. "Boss would better not forget it. It's already quite annoying to collect those stuffs. Cheee. I'm fed up of this game. I should tell him that. Shishishi. I'm sure Boss won't laugh at all. Anyway I'm fed up eating instant food every daaay!"

He threw the half-empty box against the wall. The noodles left a dirty stain on the wallpaper, however Bel didn't seem to notice it and just slouched on a mattress he had set on the ground. One thing truly cruel at spying on people is the fact you have to see everything they do – eat normally, sleep normally, go to work, talk with people – while you're actually forced to live like a recluse in order not to get caught. Eating, mostly, was important: Belphegor was sick and tired of the food from convenience store. You may find it weird to see a boy his age getting tired eating carbohydrate based food, but after four orfive days of sustaining only with this when the meals of the one you're spying on consist day by day into fresh and red meat, fine wine and home-made high class deserts, you start to doubt about the relevance of your job.

In the end, he couldn't become James Bond. So Bel decided to turn into a Doctor No.

"To hell with this!" Bel stood up. "I'm a prince, why should I eat instant noodles and that peasant ice cream? Shishishi. I'll make them pay later."

The blond shut his PC off and took only a tablet with him as he left his building. He sneaked easily in the opposite one, reached Squalo's door with no trouble, and then entered in. If his memory didn't betray him, there must be pudding in the fridge, Bel pondered before pulling at the handle of the apparel.

 _Bingo_.

Pudding, Cobb salad and sashimi. The prince settled on the couch with his loot – a coffee cabinet on top of everything – and turned the TV on.

"Well, it's still amazing." He said between two chomps. "Why does that peasant have so much food stored? Even if he has no one to eat with at home. It would be a shame to waste it. Fortunately I'm here. Ushishishishi."

Of course, the boy didn't report his robbery in the boss' 'gifts', and he had absolutely no idea where Squalo was (probably having dinner with Dino again since he wasn't in Namimori U anymore). A respectable burp made its way out of the blond's mouth as he just slumped in the couch, full and satiated, the top of his tummy altogether with his bangs almost completely obstructing his peripheral vision. The low humming of the TV was leisurely lulling the Prince, making his eyelids go heavier and heavier by the second… when the phone suddenly rang.

Bel grunted with displeasure. Who the hell dared disturbing him during his respite? He wanted to pick up, but it would have busted his cover. Plus he would need to get up to reach the damn thing. Anyway, the annoying ringing soon was gone… Only to come back barely two minutes later.

"Yeaaah?" Finally, exasperated, the blond answered.

" _Eh? Did I dial the wrong number?_ " Dino said at the end of the line. " _I'm sorry if I disturb you_ …"

"You got nothing wrong. Squalo isn't at home yet, if he's the one you're looking for."

" _Really? Aaah, and he isn't picking up either… Um… Can I leave a message?_ "

"Peasant. Do I sound like a secretary? Shishishi. Just kidding." Bel said as he suddenly remembered his role. "This prince will be glad to pass it on."

" _Oh, thank you so much! Tell Squalo I'll be waiting for him Saturday morning in front of his building, please. By 8. I've already arranged everything, so he doesn't have to worry about anything else_ …"

Bel irreverently stuffed another handful of sashimi in his mouth. "Saturday at 8 in the morning, you say? I think it won't be possible. This peasant still has stuff to do till 11. Something like a party with old and rich people. The university told him to go. This peasant is very popular amongst old people, you know? They hope he'll bring money for his department. Shishishi. Little chances he finishes sooner."

" _Oh, then… Can I wait for him at home?"_

"Bad idea, if you want my opinion. Since this morning, Squalo-sensei had been overloaded with work. That's why I'm helping him here. Articles to be published and all. I don't remember anymore. His room is a mess and it's likely he won't accept leaving before a whole cleaning. You know how much sensei can't stand it when everything is messy."

" _Yeah, I know what you mean_ …"

"Look. What about he goes see you straight after he's through? Just leave an address or anything…"

" _Really? It may be a little tough with the plane, though… Well, it can't be helped. Tell him I'll be at the airport. In the departure lounge. I'll be waiting for him_."

"Yup. And one last thing: you'd better not call him before this week end. He would only yell at you."

" _Yes. Thank you. And, er…" Dino hesitated. "Can you tell me who you are, please?"_

"I'm just a student of his. Bye-by." Bel yawned, tired by all his improvisations. Sometimes, it wasn't too bad to be a congenital mythomaniac.

The blond replaced the receiver and grinned. The Boss surely will be very happy to learn his beloved mistress planned having a romantic weekend with his lover. A very productive trip, indeed. Collecting both information and food wasn't something even James Bond could do. For this night, the blond decided it was plenty enough work done. He went home and immediately prepared an urgent note for the raven. No more slacking off for tomorrow, Bel promised to himself.

Thus, the next day, he woke up at 11 a.m.

…

Spying on someone in the crowd is always difficult. If you decided stalking your target inside, high are the chances you'll lose sight of them within the swarm of poor peasants. But in the same time, keeping a safe distance from them – that is, not too close and not too far – make your tracking way more efficient. In point of fact, the best option would be to have at least one agent within a radius of 20 meters around the target, and another one at a more remote place (hiding in a building, in a car or anything else) supervising the other pawns.

But in Bel's case, he was alone. Xanxus specifically suggested that _no one else_ but him would be informed of this tracking. Such a timid man, that Boss. Bel was sure the raven was pretty reluctant asking someone to do this in the first place – how could the great, the strong and powerful Xanxus fall as low as staking out his lover? – even more doing it himself. If it hadn't been that fortuitous call Bel had made two weeks earlier, Xanxus would still be ruminating his anger in his wide and cold office, just like a… well, like a jealous husband. Now he was the type husband who would ask their wife's friends to keep an eye on her. And more than just one eye. He gave Bel the means and the bucks to do his little spying, but forbade any more intrusion in his private life. Consequently, no accomplice, no assistance, no shameful secret leaking out.

However, an acolyte would certainly have prevented the trouble Bel had been faced to the next morning.

First, he arrived late, too late. The first course of the silverette had already begun. It was okay; at any rate he would always fall asleep at the beginning. After that, Bel had to slip sneakily through the Student Council's patrols. This, too, hadn't been too hard for him. But when finally Bel thought he could reach the classroom for his next course, he got assaulted at the corner of a corridor.

It was a quick and almost imperceptible hit directed straight at his head, still easily dodged by the blond. A _crash_ resounded behind him, he turned back: in the window pane, a hole, probably done by the baseball ball which had just been thrown at him, was now fully visible.

"Shishishi. The President isn't gonna be happy about it." Bel grinned at his attacker who was walking to him as if nothing happened.

"Yeah, he is." Gokudera replied. "If I tell him a mole had infiltrated Namimori U. But if you tell me right now who you are and what you're up to, I may consider letting you go."

As an answer, Bel's grin widened. He put his tongue out and run away. The young silverette went after him, cursing in his inner-self at the other's rapidity. Hayato almost lost track of him in the many mazes of the university, running in the stairs, sometimes jumping from a window to another, almost always throwing random things at each other: books, chairs, other students… Until Hibari Kyoya literally fell from the sky like a dark puma pouncing on his prey, and beat the hell out of them, or to quote the president: 'bit them to death'.

Kyoya's men brought the half-dead troublemakers to his office where their sentence was already waiting for them. But in Namimori U were the martial law had simply become the law itself, Hibari Kyoya was as an angel-faced despot many had described worse than Stalin himself as his right-hand man was a man who had a deep respect for diplomacy and in human dignity general.

The president sat behind his desk and propped elbows on it, chin poised on intertwined delicate fingers, palms turned downwards and cynical expression on his thin lips. "A trial?" Hibari raised an inquiring eyebrow at Kusakabe. "Why a trial? In my eyes, those two are guilty enough to deserve death penalty."

"Wait, Kyo-san!" A drop of sweat dripped on the taller youth's temple. "It's not as if we could actually kill them anyway. Maybe we should take some time to listen to what they have to say, and decide _afterward_ what the sentence should be…"

Kyoya shrugged then leaned on his armchair as a king suffering for once the misfortune of his people. "Humph. Again with that uncalled humanity of yours. Good. I'll listen. First, this herbivore." He glared at Hayato who was kneeling right down on the ground as well as Bel.

"Huh? Why do I have to…" The young silverette began, but silenced rapidly as Kusakabe waved frantically his hands behind Kyoya's back, a terrible look on his face as though to say: 'Don't madden him no more!' "This bastard's a spy!" He swiftly pointed a condemning finger at an aloof and drooling blond. "He's been stalking a professor here and at his house. He's just crazy!"

"That a stranger is harassing a professor on Namimori U's grounds and even outside," Hibari spoke. "I don't think it has to do anything with _you_. It's even less a reason to destroy the university's properties, isn't it?"

"That's right." The wise Kusakabe added. "You should have called the cops or at least ask for advice from the Student Council. By the way, do you have any evidence of what you're saying?"

Gokudera stiffed. "No… But there's a witness who testified he had seen that weirdo around the professor's house (he saw that because he lives nearby). And I'm sure if you verify the university's registries, you won't find this guy anywhere!"

Kusakabe nodded. "We'll do this later. By then, does the defendant have anything to say?"

The defendant, aka Belphegor, just kept on staring at the ceiling (that was at least the impression he was giving, with his head tilted up and thick locks concealing his eyes), mouth half-open and arms dangling at his sides. All of a sudden, he jerked faintly and looked alternatively at the people in the Council's bureau. He stared for a long time at Hibari and Gokudera, then grinned. "Aaah. I remember those peasants! The baseball player's fans! Shishishi!"

 _Bam_. Hibari violently hit the desk with his tonfa, and exactly in the same time Gokudera quickly rose up, cheeks burning red. Both were fuming and looking daggers at Bel.

"Who the fuck is that freak's _fan_ , you say?" Hayato hissed.

"I'll tear your tongue off of your mouth and feed the crows with it, herbivore." Kyoya menaced.

Belphegor rolled on himself. "Shishishi! I'm a genius so I can tell. Just how many days do you think I've been watching all of you, stupid peasants?"

The heat quickly rose higher. Alerted by the sudden change of mood in the place, Kusakabe interposed between the stalker and the 'fans'. "Calm down, both of you! Don't you see he's trying to turn us against each other? Plus he's just confessed his offence, hasn't he…"

"I can't stomach that baseball freak!" Hayato defended himself. "I'm only tagging along with that idiot because Tsuna is. That's all! I wouldn't have even talked to him in the very first place."

"I don't mingle with herbivores." Kyoya simply spat.

"Oh, true?" Bel got naughtier. "Because~ it's not as if that idiotic peasant gave any sign he's interested or anything. The little brain he has only allows him to focus on one thing in one time. Shishishi! Lately it's the baseball championship. But once it's over, I'm positive he'll go back to his previous focus. Your sensei, I mean." The blond' grin suddenly disappeared as a condescending air spread on his face. "Aaah! now I think about it, it's hopeless since Squalo-sensei is in love with Boss. The photo I took with his phone, that photo of Xanxus sleeping in his bed, is the biggest proof of what I say!"

By the end of his tirade, Bel was up on his feet, his hands raised above his head in a theatrical way. And in living memory and mystery thrillers memory, there had been no confession as fast and easily dragged out than this one.

TBC


	18. Why love is a sacred madness

Aaaa the chapters are all getting longer. i noticed it when i editted them...

Enjoy this chap, kids! I hope its not as hot there at your home as here!

* * *

After nearly twenty years living in high society, Gokudera Hayato had learnt some of the reasons why people would get into a fight for. First, for previously married couple, it may be for child custody. Most of time, it isn't that much for the love of the children; but it's always harder to blame the single mother with three dependent children than the new bachelor, free and with nothing to worry about except for paying the alimony.

Second, people sometimes fight for the inheritance. For Hayato, it was certainly the most foolish reason. In his case, it was already a wonder why his father decided to acknowledge the natural son, though never once he felt comfortable under the old man's condescending glance. On the other hand, the young silverette was more the kind of person to value themselves from their achievements rather than the blood running in their veins.

Then come the petite motives: interest. How many of those men and women could smile in public dressed up in the most beautiful garments and jewels and show off their wit, as many as you wish, but in the shadow use the wickedest and pettiest tricks for their small intrigues in order to get rid of a rival, to get hold of some naïve one's fortune, to get revenge over an insulted pride, or whatsoever. His own family was certainly the best illustration. Even Hayato couldn't foretell how much Bianchi's wedding with Xanxus would break the fragile equilibrium of interest and trust in the Gokudera clan.

And finally this last reason which, in Gokudera Jouji and many other people's opinion, is by far the least efficient one when it becomes a hindrance for the previous reasons: love.

At that moment, Hayato was faced with a brand new situation. He had listened to Bel's explanation, but instead of making his thoughts cleared, it only messed them more.

Was that Xanxus bastard truly that psycho professor's lover? If that was true, so much the better for him. But why did he want to marry someone else then? The raven was indecently rich; a marriage would bring nothing more to his wealth and power. That game he was playing with the long haired man was purely morbid, stupid and useless… And why the hell did his sister have to be mingled with their little and insignificant trifles?

"But your sister isn't the only one flouted here." Bel said, Hayato could recall.

That day, the Student Council's 'trial' had ended rapidly (like everything dealt by the fearsome Hibari Kyoya). In regard of the overwhelming evidences against both Gokudera and Belphegor, the Council recognized them as being fully liable for the damages and trouble they created in Namimori U. Hibari first thought about biting both of them to death, but after due consideration, it was decided that _living_ prisoners would do better work at repairing and replacing everything they broke than dead ones. And surprisingly, none talked about that presumed fondness for the 'baseball player' anymore.

After listening to his penalty (three months of forced labor), Hayato went home, crestfallen and beaten. The youth was now sitting in the darkness of his bedroom, unable to decide whether he should have a talk with Bianchi or let his doubts die in the bud. What did that Belphegor weirdo mean anyway? Bianchi wasn't the only flouted one… Hayato started rummaging in his memory. Back then, in the restaurant, wasn't Superbi Squalo with someone else? A blond, tall and with a kind of familiar face…

"Che. Why do I even bother about all that shit?" Hayato exclaimed and chucked his bag on the ground before slumping on the bed. If truth be told, he had never been pretty good at dealing with love problems, whether they were other people's or his own…

Plus that was right. That didn't concern him. At the very most, he felt concern for Bianchi, but she was an adult, wasn't she? She was strong and bright – no matter how many times would strangers call him a prodigy, Hayato was positive Bianchi had _always_ been the shrewdest of them two. She didn't need to be protected like some frail princess.

No, she didn't, did she…

"Sis'!" The young silverette called out as he walked out of his bedroom.

Bianchi was nowhere to be found. She wasn't in her rooms, she wasn't in the library or in the living… Hayato was about to give up his searching when he finally found the young woman in the patio.

That place had always been Bianchi's favorite place in the mansion. It was a greenhouse arranged like an English garden, with black steel columns on which ivy was climbing, flower beds beautifully scattered in the defined space, and a colorful flora which was absorbing in a very pleasing way the sunlight filtered by the glass walls and roof. A wonderfully sweet scent was lingering in the air; a scent which, in the middle of the summer, could turn incredibly unctuous. The young woman was crouched behind blossoming shrubs, wearing simple yet tasteful clothing. When her brother came in, she was tailing her precious lilies and hydrangeas and cautiously dampening the leaves of her dahlias. Bianchi didn't even turned back as she heard her name being called again.

"Sis', I have to talk to you about something."

"Why that grave tone?" Bianchi asked, her eyes still focused on the flower and the small shears in her hands.

Hayato stayed few feet behind her. "Finally, I can't accept your marrying that depraved bastard! You won't believe what I've heard today about him. As I thought, he's just a corrupt, an insane! I won't let such a wanton man-"

"Hayato." Bianchi stood up and eyed at her brother with an imperious look. "We're ruined."

…

Saying that receiving Bel's note concerning the New Zealand trip had made Xanxus angry (Dino never said anything about the destination, but that name, 'New Zealand', had a nice ring in the blond's ears) was an euphemism. The first thought which had crossed the raven's mind was one of a murder. A vicious and bloody murder. He was already licking his lips thinking about repainting the streets with the damn Casanova and the silver haired trash's blood, two coats, and then making a damn garland with their bowels. Hell, Cavallone couldn't say the raven hadn't warned him.

Xanxus indeed considered the idea of a double homicide… yet he did nothing: Ieyasu's reprimand still was printed with burning letters in his brain. So Xanxus – for the first time in his long life – complied with someone's request (the word 'order' was even now a bit too much for him). After that little expedition at Byakuran's suite, Xanxus was back to his office. As a matter of fact, he had no other place to go at the moment.

Slumping in his armchair, liquors of all sort – dry curacao, kummel, anisette, kirsch, gin, raki from Chio, calvados, slivovitz, mirabelle, the whole lot artistically counterbalanced with a mix of whisky, cognac and vodka in a fashion the raven had mastered through years – liquors of all sort set on his desk, Xanxus was ready for his introspection.

What did that old man mean by 'nonsense'? Well, maybe that was the polygamy thing. Good, Xanxus pondered. Already one answer. The kirsch was doing its job. But what did Ieyasu expect? That he, Xanxus, would put one knee to the ground, take that silver haired trash's hand, look at him in the eye – those heavy grey orbs, how deep and captivating and troubling they were – and fucking ask him…

Shit. That was bad. Swap the whisky with kummel. Such stupid thoughts, one truly has to be drunk to even weigh them up.

And what about that chick… That… What's-her-name Bianca? Ieyasu said a name like this. A well-born girl, slightly preppy, nice face, nice body and all. Honestly, when the old geezer described her, Xanxus had the impression he was talking about some woman he had already fucked. How many of those had he done, only this year? Ah, that's true. Not so many, since most of time he'd been with the trash. When Xanxus saw her, he was thankful the girl wasn't an ugly ass. But, dear Lord, the family… Xanxus gulped down another glass of whisky as he recalled the go-getter father and the emo brother. A bullet in the head would have been better than listening to their prattling. Or rather, no. A bullet can hurt a lot. What about marrying the trash instead?

"Bwahaha! That'd be the best!" Xanxus burst out laughing.

"Excuse me, sir." Hana appeared behind the office's entrance. "Is there something wrong?"

"Get out of here, you stupid _vitch_!" The raven roared.

The _vitch_ quickly got out. Back to curacao.

Anyway, how would he look like with a fucking man at his arm. in the church and on the photos? He didn't want to be the laughing stock of some damn bigoted and jealous scumbags. 'Cause that's the whole matter, isn't it? Jealousy. They could use sweat and tears for the rest of their pathetic lives, they would never be able to heap up even only the third of his wealth. Vodka. Yeah, those fucktards could get the most beautiful actresses, singers and models, and then have them replaced with younger and prettier bitches after few years, the raven was quite sure they wouldn't find one as gorgeous as _his_ trash… or as hot… or as committed … or as perfect…

Xanxus flinched as the picture of Squalo in a wedding-dress slowly emerged from the meanders of his mind. Or was it a retch, Xanxus didn't know. In his half-drunken, half-dazed state, the tanned man caught the sight of a small village (though he couldn't tell if it was a reminiscence of his childhood or only a scene from The Godfather movie) lost somewhere in the middle of the Sicilia island, a hamlet which had practically grown out of the stony hills and green plains and the unique river miles around. The weather was hot, scorching, a real canicule preserved by the harsh sirocco which was peeling the skin under its painful touch. A smell of dust and olive oil.

The bell in the old church's belfry was ringing. A newly wed couple was crossing the square, followed by the singing and applauding and shouting crowd. It wasn't an extravagant wedding: there was almost no car at all and the gathering was mainly made of villagers and family. The villagers themselves were the family. The couple then went down the unique street of the village, saluting every villager on their way and receiving their gifts and wishes for a long and happy life.

The raven remained pensive. Not once in his life had he thought about his wedding ceremony, but if he had to go through it, Xanxus would rather have something small and convivial like this one.

Calvados.

However, the pious and traditional ceremony only would bear such a humble and decent air. The real party, they would held it at the familial mansion where had been celebrated his father's marriage and many others before it. Xanxus silently puffed at how respectful of the family's traditions he had become, he, the revolted child, the revolted teenager and convict-to-be adult. Yet at the moment, the tanned man could think of no other place he would belong to but there, at VR Co.'s head.

Ah? If he had to choose between this and the silverette, you ask? Rubbish. Cognac. Xanxus would _not_ choose. He would take everything, make everything his. What would be the use of only one of them if he couldn't have the other? That's what Xanxus Vongola's believes were.

And otherwise what? Had the trash even think about quitting his job? It would have been so easy for the raven if he did, if he accepted standing _constantly_ there, by his side… however that was more than certainly the booze which was talking, not him.

Xanxus wanted to go back to his made-up memories (finally, they _did_ come from the movie).

Suddenly, he was the bridegroom. He was pulling at the bride's forearm for the latter to walk more quickly. The raven was fed up of the heat and the noise. At least, the manor was air-conditioned. The bride whined and cursed at him. Somehow, Xanxus recognized that voice. That familiar, noisy and annoying voice. He glared at the bride's face: that was Squalo who was frowning back at him.

"What the fuck is this shit…" Xanxus grunted annoyingly while swallowing the content of his glass.

The silver haired trash was standing there, in the middle of th ballroom and surrounded by his acquaintances. Was Xanxus drunk? Yes, of course he was, but that didn't explain why he was daydreaming about a transvestite silver haired man! Anyway, the trash didn't look bad, dressed up like a bride.

The muslin dress he was wearing was long and white, and an impressive drape-like tulle train, beaded and embroidered, was spreading down on the ground like a lunar disc. White decorated gloves at his forearms, shoes trimmed with lace at his feet, and silver hair glistening a subtle silvery sheen falling on narrow shoulders, on a swan-like neck and on thin arms into a veil of waves, with a profusion of sweet peas, clematis and irises pinned at one side of the silverette's head. The scent from them made the raven want to lean on the silverette to smell at it. And rip that fucking robe open.

"Let's go to bed…" Xanxus whispered in the smaller man's ear, or more exactly he wanted to, but then he remembered there was no party, no mansion in Sicilia, no silver haired beauty. There were only his office, his booze and he, an idiotic thirty-four years old bachelor who surely would never ever get married and who would end up a bachelor at fifty because no one could put up with him.

By that moment, the level of alcohol in Xanxus' blood had equaled Boris Yeltsin's. Nevertheless, even lost in the deepest profundity of Holy Booze, one can have their moments of lucidity. Xanxus' one consisted into recalling Bel had sent him the silver head's new phone number in his last note.

Xanxus dialed.

 _"_ _Who's that?"_ The rash voice of that moron resounded in the receiver.

Xanxus' voice was thick when he talked. "Trash… Come here right now."

" _Voi… is that you, Xanxus_?" Squalo grunted. " _How did you get this number? And why the fuck are you calling at that hour? You're drunk again, are you._ "

The last one wasn't a question, more a reproach. "So what if I am? Come here. I'm horny."

" _Che. You're kidding me, aren't you. Voi, it's late. And I already told you we're over. I'm not_ -"

"Like I'd give a fuck about such bullshit!" The raven barked. "You damn whore. Or is having that shitty Cavallone fuck your asshole so damn good it can take no more fucking?"

Silence. To tell the truth, Xanxus was so smashed he didn't know anymore whether the silverette was silent or if he had rung off. And two seconds later, none of all this was a problem to the raven since he collapsed on the carpeted floor and almost immediately fell unconscious. He didn't hear his secretary opening the door, running at him while calling at his name. He didn't understand how he still could draw himself up and walk to the entrance – right before losing consciousness again.

A total black out.

Xanxus only woke up from his torpor few hours later (to be more precise, 11 hours later) in a room he didn't recognize, in a bed too big for only one person, dressed in clothes which weren't his, with flowers all around him, scattered all over the pillows and sheets. A horrible headache was nailing his head on the cold mattress.

"The hell…" He grunted.

"Voi, you're finally up?" Squalo said behind him. Surprised, Xanxus swiftly turned back, only to have his headache worsen. "Don't move so fast. I don't want you to throw up again."

"What are you fucking doing here?" Xanxus eyed cautiously at the half-naked silverette lying close to him, at the unknown bedroom, and again all those flowers all over the place. "Are we on honey moon?"

"Stop joking about that." The silverette got up and walked to a body-length mirror, not far from the bed. He tied his hair into a loose bun. "Don't fucking tell me you've forgotten all the shit you did last night."

Last night? Did he do anything? All Xanxus could remember was his passing out in his office. That was all. That and other little details that appeared in flash in his head… The raven groaned and slowly turned round to look at Squalo who was staring gloomily at him. "Voi, Xanxus… You seriously have an alcohol problem, you know…" He sat on the bed, the weight of his body making the mattress creak beneath them. He pointed at Xanxus' shirt (only now did Xanxus notice it was a pyjama top). "First, this one is mine. You ruined you shirt when you threw up on it. My pants and shoes too. I don't know what you've been drinking yesterday, but quit it -"

"Yeah, yeah. And after that?"

Squalo sighed. It was a lost cause to try to change that bastard. "I think you called me ten times or so. Then you sent people at my house. Honestly, are you a fucking kid for doing things like this?... Oh, fuck this. By 3a.m., you were drumming at my door like a madman. I'm sure you stirred the whole building up. And with motherfucking flowers, for God's sake! Holy shit. I thought I'd die of shame. Of course, I had to open. I'll spare you all the insanities you've shouted. You broke the handle of the door, we were shut up outside. Fortunately your chauffeur had the spare keys for your room. I had to drag you inside, that's when you puked right before passing out. Fuck, that was just… Anyway, why don't you have any change of clothes here, you stupid? You would have frozen to death if I hadn't given you mine! Now thanks to you, all my plans for today are spoiled, plus I have to find a locksmith for that fucking door. And it's Saturday, goddammit!"

The exasperated silver haired man went to the bathroom from where the raven soon could hear the whisper of the shower. In the same way as a zombie, Xanxus crept on the bed and reached at a cell phone on the nightstand. He unlocked the screen. It was past 1p.m.

"I don't give a flying fuck about your shitty plans. And why were you still in your underwear, you dumb trash?" Xanxus inquired.

"I just woke up so shut it." Squalo's voice came to the raven as though he had been in a grotto. "I could barely sleep because of _you_! And also…" He paused a little. "I tell you all my plans are spoiled. I've nothing to do anymore for the rest of the weekend."

Xanxus could hear to the silverette's whining without truly listening, as always. Crimson orbs ogling at the ceiling light, he was thinking. In his inner-self, the tanned man was cursing himself for showing such a desperate face to the idiotic scumbag. Just what had crossed his mind last night for ending up so badly messed up?… And what kind of shit had he blabbered to the other idiot? He was secretly hoping it wasn't all the shit he had been thinking about the night before.

But the most important question which was tearing him was certainly this one: what the fuck was he doing there, stupidly lying in the bed, when in the bathroom the trash was practically waiting for him, fucking naked and wet? If that wasn't enough to drag him back then nothing else would.

And the raven indeed _was_ dragged back.

…

Squalo really felt he was slowly going mad. He was losing it, he was totally screwed. His instinct was telling him he was wrong, his reason was laughing at his weakness, and Squalo couldn't fight it back.

At the very moment the raven was calling at him, was looking at him, the cells of his body were subdued. It was as though his being could belong to no one else, nothing else but that carnal and arrogant bastard. And in the morning, things would come back as if nothing had ever happened the night before. After all, screwing around for fun was one thing, but when reality was dawning behind the blind of the bedroom's window, with its obligations and necessities and engagements, at least one of them had to act like an adult and leave the room first. Then there would be nothing else left for the silver haired man but a hollow feeling in his belly and the promise of another escapade the night after.

A hellish rondo of hot and desperate nights with Xanxus, and then in the morning, the empty bed. Again. And there was absolutely no way Squalo could escape from the web that had been weaved around him.

Dino was more than aware of that situation, even if he didn't give the impression. Yet the childhood friend kept on coming at every fake date. In the day time, they would have their lunches at their usual bistro; from time to time, Dino would follow the silverette for his shopping or invite him – in the friendliest way possible – to go to the cinema, to premieres or to any other representation the blond was invited to as an honor guest. They could be seen together so often people could ever question themselves if Dino wasn't the truly recognized boyfriend (unfortunately for the yellow press, there had _never_ been any evidence proving this fact or the contrary).

But that was only till the night came, altogether with the same game; a game which had started precisely that day Squalo 'ditched' him at the airport. Dino, as always, didn't take offense.

"You can't make it for tonight?" Dino would ask Squalo now and then, every time knowing perfectly what the answer would be. "So what about tomorrow night? Still a no? Okay, I got it. You still have stuff to do at work. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then."

Such an ignominious farce, such a shameful agreement between them three. However, how to fill that hideous hollow in the silverette if not with Dino's countless attentions and limitless patience? Of this dilemma, even the blond was aware. Did that help him accept the situation his friend had imposed on him? Who knew? A man said someday that one could love someone, serve them and never get anything in return, and still be happy. It was Dino Cavallone's case. But instead of happiness, what he felt was rather akin to anger – anger against himself for never being good enough. For years, Dino had tried to build up a heart of stone in order to become an upright adult, one Squalo could be proud being seen with. He didn't even know if he succeeded, and the silver head would surely hit him for asking.

And talking about things he didn't want Squalo to know, there was also the fact he would stay in his car for one or two hours long, waiting in front of Namimori U for the silverette to come out, and keeping on thinking about the same questions over and over again, forehead resting pathetically on the wheel. If said car hadn't been a shining and glitzy new Mercedes, Dino would have surely been arrested since long for harassment.

But that day hadn't been a normal day at all for the blond. The reason was because it had been the first day of the state of emergency the Student Council's president had established: security level increased all over Namimori U, instant check-up of every students at the entrance and verification of the students' ID inside the building, and furthermore… The university suddenly turned to be a military base, everything due to Bel's recent infiltration – and also to few strange incidents that occurred to another student, one of the so impossible-to-remember ones. Now, the smallest change had to be reported to the Council. It didn't take long before they noticed right before the portico that luxurious car whose license plate corresponded to none of Namimori U's students, professors or staffs.

In this kind of situation, normally a member of the bureau would be sent for the inquiry – and that was precisely what they did. But when said member came back with the owner's answer ("I'm waiting for the professor Superbi Squalo. I'm one of his friend, Dino Cavallone"), the president clearly showed his disapproval by personally taking the case in his hands and smashing the Mercedes's driver side door with a blow of his tonfa. That nearly made said Dino Cavallone have a heart attack.

"Aaah! What's wrong with you?" Dino exclaimed after he got out of the car. He stared desperately at the damage on the door: it was totally condemned. Dino wept. Kyoya grimaced.

"I've already told you not to come around, haven't I?" The dark haired youth hissed.

"To come inside! And I'm _outside_!"

"Stop whining, you stupid herbivore. Your voice is bothering me." And to emphasize his point, Kyoya broke a window pane. Dino squeaked louder before falling down on his knees, his cheek rubbing against the metal of the bodywork as though it was a wounded pet.

"Why did you have to do that?" The blond snoozed. "And I just bought her! Now she's mutilated!" He snoozed again. "Squalo is going to laugh at me again…"

Hibari's eyebrows furrowed. _That man_ , again. "Herbivore." He spoke. "Why are you, all of you, so fond of that man?"

The Cavallone heir blinked with surprise. A soft smile naturally made its way on his features, as every time he was asked this question. "Of Squalo? Umm… I don't know about the others, but for me, he's an inestimable friend. When we were kids, he always helped me out, even if he didn't even know me well, back then. I don't know how it's possible, but, in spite of all appearances, he can have a lot of patience toward people in general. I myself owe him a lot. But lately…" Dino silenced as he recalled he was talking to a complete stranger about his personal problems.

Still, the half-interested, half-bored expression on the other male told him he could go on. "Lately, things are a little different. So different I recently thought about just giving up and going back to Italy. Aa. Even if I don't wanna hear my father criticizing me again. But it's never very fun to have one-sided feelings for someone… Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you with my stories, but it's only, you know,… I'm tired of it. I'm tired of telling myself that I could have done anything for him, for a single word from him. And in spite of everything, what the other one can give him I can't give. Finally, maybe he had been too good for me, and me too foolish." Dino ended his tirade with a desperate sigh then looked at Kyoya's face, unsure of what he would see.

Hibari was looking back at him with a disgusted air. "Did you know it? You're one damn annoying of an herbivore."

TBC


	19. Why life is a matter of dealing

So this is the 19th chapter... normally its not supposed to end at the 20th one, there should be some extras & others... But as i said on tumblr, if you want to know what happens with the 8059 pairing, with 8018, D18 and all, can u leave a request plz because i didn't really plan to write anything abt them in the first place

Enjoy !

* * *

Yes, one had to put an end to that hateful play. Xanxus seemed he grew somewhat accustomed to the status quo, but he had to admit it was tiresome to make the silverette keep on coming every night. The strangest fact was that Squalo was agreeing on it; it was weird he would actually obey him.

And the old Gokudera was becoming more and more stubborn about that shitty wedding. It was an exchange of friendly services, the geezer would always say. Xanxus could understand that point for the refined broke family, but in the end, what did _he_ win in the bargain apart from the lovely image of a happy couple? The raven wondered how they would look like later… Maybe with a house in the chic suburbs, a charming little family with the kids, the dog and the cat lying in front of the fire-place and a MPV in the garage? And don't forget the life subscription to the nearby country-club. This would make a good picture for Christmas.

'Shit, I'm really getting old…' The raven mumbled in silence.

Well, old or desperate for procreation, Ieyasu would have said. Otherwise he wouldn't have agreed on an arranged marriage or, as it was the case that night, an arranged date with the Mrs. Vongola-to-be.

This time, it was coinciding more with the idea of a 'date', that is no chaperone, no curfew. Xanxus was stuck with Bianchi for the entire evening in a restaurant specially chosen for their second rendezvous, in other words a more decent and luxurious one. The elegant and dazzling room with its crystal chandelier and the bunches of flowers at each corner of the place, the wonderful view from the bow-window, the soft humming of the chamber orchestra playing some soft and melancholic melody, and the unavoidable boring, aimless and suicide-inducing conversations; those were what the raven had to face this evening.

If the trash had been there, the tanned man thought, they would have been arguing, insulting each other, then they would go back home angry, and yet have sex… and the day after, none would even remember why they had been fighting over that night. Of course, until one of them would touch the tender spot again. But in the end, everything would be alright because he knew no matter what stupid stuff he would do or say, the silverette would put up with it and… 'love' him? In his own way, at least.

And that Bianca chick was precisely the type of women who could make their husbands' life an inferno.

So Xanxus was pondering on his seat as he was glancing at the lights of Tokyo behind the huge bay window. On the opposite seat, Bianchi was more or less silent, only talking when the waiter was asking something or when she would show a minimum of civilities to the raven: 'Good evening', 'Thank you', 'The duck here is exquisite' or so, and no more.

Such a boring evening. And to think that every evening, every day of his life until the day he dies would be so boring…

A low chiming sound from his phone drew Xanxus' attention. It was a message.

"Oh, you look a little happier, all of a sudden." Bianchi addressed the raven.

The latter locked the screen and put the device back on the table. "Aa? What are you talking about?"

"Your phone. Or I should say the message you received on your phone. Good news?"

Xanxus stared derisively at the young woman. It was the first time since the dinner started they had a true conversation, yet Xanxus wasn't sure he wanted to have one, not on _that_ subject. "It has nothing to do with you."

"My, I think it has." Bianchi retorted serenely. "I agree on the fact that your job, your company and how you treat your employees have nothing to do with me. Actually, I have absolutely no interest in those things. But if it comes to my betrothed's lover, I think it _does_ have something to do with me."

A glacial silence settled between the two. The tanned man was considering the young woman with an impassive disdain while, at the other side of the table, Bianchi was sipping tranquilly at a glass of white wine. How come that frivolous dinner turned out to be his inquisition? Oh, so this was also part of marriage, that there would always be someone to know everything about you: your dreams, your hopes, your passwords and security codes… The only annoying part for Xanxus was that that someone wasn't the one he had wished for.

That damn dinner was starting to get out of control. Few minutes ago, the raven was bored. At the moment, he was bored to tears. "It _doesn't_. Hurry up and let's get over with this shit."

"Please, I'm sorry if I said harsh words." Bianchi smiled at him. "My intention hadn't been to fluster you, far from it. But your attitude really made me wonder."

"Attitude? What the fuck are you blabbering again?"

The young woman simpered. "Didn't you notice it? My dearest, we're going to get married and you've been angry the whole evening before you received that message from your lover."

To this, Xanxus replied nothing, as a man who was used to give an account of his choices or 'attitudes' to no one. Even less to some chick he practically took in out of charity.

"Sorry. It was completely out of place." Bianchi said as the look on the raven's face grew drastically darker. Her simper slowly faded, replaced by her usual kind smile. "But since we're having a conversation for the very first time, I wanted to say I… I'm thankful, for what you're doing for father. Not exactly for him, but what you're doing for our family, especially for my brother. My father dilapidated the family's fortune for Byakuran, to launch WHS. But even after it started to grow bigger, father could get no money out of it. Byakuran's lawyers told him it was a usual fact, that we shouldn't worry about anything, so father let go and waited. But then WHS's growth started costing too much, even for our family. Soon, there was no more left. Only the mansion and half of the family's private incomes, which would have never been enough to cover our debts. But at least, with your _compensations_ , they can be written off. Aa, just how things turned out that way, I can't tell…"

Bianchi had talked in a crystalline voice and with so much aplomb and elegance it was almost as though she was the one helping out the raven. Those damn rich people. But something indeed triggered his curiosity in the young woman's discourse. What she was talking about, Xanxus wanted to know to what extent the damages were in WHS exactly. And seeing that perfectly calm air on the woman's face, Xanxus understood there _had_ to be something in the wind. He would have been the lousiest idiot of the game if he didn't take advantage of that.

"You… Are you seriously asking me to destroy your brother's company?"

" _Stepbrother_." Bianchi rectified, her expression not failing once. "And no, I'm not. I was just wondering if father's money is truly used in the family's interests."

"And even if it isn't, what could I do about it? I have no access to their files... not as if I had a spy inside WHS. Those people don't trust VR Co, and they would never betray Byakuran if they didn't gain anything in exchange."

The young woman shrugged. "And if I gave you that spy? Don't forget, officially _I_ own half of my stepbrother's company. How many people inside WHS do you think could rally round me?"

How sweet those schemes tasted in the raven's mouth. Just like the ambrosia of revenge. Byakuran fought well, Xanxus had to admit, maybe to the point of being an adversary worthy of him. Starting with nothing, that white haired scum made his way to VR Co., he even had started to become a serious threat for him, Xanxus Vongola. They both used twisted ways to get what they both wanted, and Byakuran thought that if he hid to the raven the things that mattered to him – like in that Irie Shouichi guy's case – he would get out of this dual without injuries.

What a big mistake. Xanxus' man hunted him down, began harassing him at his home, at his part-time job and even when he was studying in Namimori U, enough to drive the guy half-crazy from fear and exhaustion – and Xanxus hadn't forgotten to keep the white haired man aware of any attempt on the redhead.

Xanxus however never feared even once for Squalo's life. First, he deemed that unworthy of him, and second the tanned man was certain if some low-life scums started threatening the silverette's life, the latter would have no trouble getting rid of them. But it wasn't the issue at the moment.

"Hey, scum." Xanxus leaned on the table and smirked cruelly at Bianchi. "What about changing the terms of our contract?"

Bianchi's smile widened. She extended her hand with an empty glass of champagne in it. A waiter immediately came to fill the flute. "Why not? How can I refuse anything from my dear fiancé? Father will certainly be disappointed, though."

…

 _-In the same time, few miles from there-_

 _I'll be a little late tonight. Stupid game has no end._ It was the message Squalo had sent to the raven. After he finished typing, his attention came back to the baseball play which was taking place on Namimori U's ground.

Squalo had absolutely no interest in the whole thing, however it was quite an impressive sight to see: in spite of the bad weather, a multitude of spectators was packed in the bleachers, everyone wearing their college's colors on their caps and umbrellas, and many meters below, on the grassed ground that still looked soaked and muddy with the previous day's rain, sometimes running, sometimes standing still, players in their jerseys.

In point of fact, the silverette didn't truly get what was happening. They were running all around the ground, throwing and hitting balls; the huge screen above the heads was showing names and numbers Squalo had no idea where they came from and then, from time to time, the public would scream like possessed people in the worst horror movie he had ever seen.

Oh, he _did_ regret accepting coming to that stupid match. But the damn katana brat had insisted, and hell he _did_ know how to. He had been practically harassing the silverette, whether after courses, after their trainings, and even sometimes at home, when he was passing by Tsuna's. But Squalo didn't get it when Yamamoto assured him that he had _already_ accepted coming. Just when did he do that? He wouldn't do something as stupid as that. No, he wouldn't… would he? It was Dino who confirmed what Yamamoto was saying.

Thus, Squalo was caught. But he was a man, and he had given his word. He couldn't go back on it anymore, even if he felt a little swindled on the way.

Another roar in the stadium. The crowd was ecstatic.

"Shit…" The silverette mumbled. Two young girls who had been sitting next to him spilled soda all over his sweater when they suddenly got up and started skipping on the spot while applauding frantically. Well, everyone was. Damn, he hated that place. He turned to look at the girls. "Voi, stupid kids…"

"Did you see it?" Girl n°1 squeaked. "Hey, did you see it? Did you see it? Did you see it?"

"Yeah, of course!" Girl n°2 squeaked as well. "It's the most awesome homerun I've seen in my life. Yamamoto is so great!"

"That's right. They're already leading by 10 points to 3, all thanks to him. Namimori's team is at its best! Haa. But too bad he's going to leave soon."

"Buuu! Yeah, so unfair!" Girl n°1 whined. "Why does W. University always get the best players?..."

It startled the swordsman. Leave? The brat was going to another university? Why hadn't he told anything about this? "That little prick." Squalo cursed. "Had he ever thought about fencing with all that baseball shit?"

Suddenly, the match lost all its interest for the silver haired man – not as if he had had a lot in the first place, though. The supporters were growing hellishly noisy. The game was finally over and the players were scrambling all around a single one. As the helmet fell from his head, Squalo recognized his pupil, all beaming and grinning and covered with mud and sweat. It seemed they had won the match. Squalo sneered, as though he wanted to say: 'Enjoy this moment. I'll make you see hell soon'.

But when Squalo found the katana brat half an hour later – after a long and impossible fight against the swirls of the crowd and the voices screaming in the megaphones – at the field's exit, he didn't have the occasion to yell at the youth as the latter nearly choked him to death when he jumped at his neck. Fortunately for Squalo's pride, it happened when most of the people who had been in the stadium left.

"Hey! You're here!" Takeshi chimed.

"Of course, I'm here, you idiot!" Squalo unfastened the vice around his neck. " _You_ 're the one who told me to come, stupid damn trash! When did I ever say I understand anything about baseball?"

"But you came." Yamamoto shrugged, a confident smile never fading from his lips. "Thank you. I'll treat you."

"Huh?"

"My father makes the best sushi in the town."

"So what?" Squalo bristled. "Anyway, it's not why I'm here. I heard you're leaving for W. college."

Takeshi opened his eyes wide. "Ah? What's that?"

The silverette frowned. That kid was truly good at annoying him to death. "Voooi. For their fucking baseball team, you fucking brat. Why didn't you tell me anything about it?"

"Why, you say? That's because I refused their offer." The boy laughed. "I would never quit our trainings. This is funnier."

It took Squalo by surprise. He was agape, and he mainly felt silly. Very silly. Why the fuck did he have to make a fool of himself in front of a kid? His face gradually became contorted. A grimace. "It's _not_ supposed to be fun. So, you're not leaving?"

"I'm not. Neither am I leaving you." Yamamoto added under his breath. "Thank you."

"Why are you fucking thanking me?"

The boy shrugged for the second time. "Because you were worried about me. You didn't want me to go, did you?"

"Voi. Don't push your luck, brat." The mentor threatened. "And I can't go with you. I have something to do."

"Really?" Takeshi's puppy eyes. Then an unexpected grin. "At home? Can I walk you home, then?"

In a normal case, Squalo would have told him to go to hell. Few months earlier, this indeed would have been the silverette's immediate reflex to such a thoughtless proposition. However, within those months, a lot of things had changed about him, about his life and his way of treating undesirables – first with thinking of them as being same human beings as him. This only meant that Squalo wasn't a barbarian. There was undeniably some kind of… how shameful for him to admit it out loud… of _gratitude_ he felt toward the younger swordsman. After all, in his lonely days, the boy did his best to entertain him the only way the silverette would acknowledge, that is, with his sword. He would not have the heart just pushing the puppy-like youth aside.

"Tsk. Do as you please. And stop grinning like a fucking idiot!"

"Yes!"

Therefore the puppy followed his master at home. But when the puppy wanted to get _inside_ the building, the master had to dismiss him. No matter how pitifully the puppy could beg and cry and push the entrance door, the master didn't let him in. Nevertheless, something else was weighing on the puppy's balance. It was the fact he was still boosted by hours spent under high pressure and adrenalin, and the effects still were working on him.

As a result, it didn't last long till the door – the thin barrier that was still separating them – gave away under Takeshi aka the puppy's weight, puppy who fell miserably on his master aka Squalo. And to add to the drama, the whole scene happened right before the puppy's friends aka Hayato and Tsuna. Tsuna who, let's remember, was witnessing this kind of stuff for the second time, so he was more or less used to it – contrary to Hayato whose face was now as red as peony.

…

Gokudera felt… uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and troubled and upset. First, he should have never been at the entrance of that damn building at that hour. There was a very important report about UFOs in the middle of Europe on TV, and he should have been watching it at home. But his best friend needed his help for a last swotting up before the next day's makeup test, like every day for months. And, since his best friend's other best friend was playing baseball, and since everyone else in Namimori U was at that stupid game, Tsuna was left with no other choice for his tutoring but the young silverette. Second, Hayato didn't give a damn about who the other baseball freak was dating, but why did they have to make out in broad light, right under the first passer-by's eyes? That was utterly inappropriate, wasn't it? Anyone would feel embarrassed seeing this kind of things.

And third, he didn't like it. That's all.

"You stupid baseball freak, what the hell are you doing here?" Hayato roared.

"Yeah, what the hell are you doing, brat?" An annoyed Squalo echoed, the younger swordsman still lying all over him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" Takeshi sat up and looked alternatively at his master and his friends. "You were here, Gokudera? I was surprised not see you earlier, before we started. I thought you'd be there…"

Instead of calming down the younger silverette, listening to Yamamoto only angered him more. Hell, it was unbelievable how everything about the baseball freak was irritating him right at that moment. Hayato made few steps toward the dark haired youth, emerald eyes looking daggers at the latter, and his knuckles itching him terribly, urging him to hit the other idiot.

As a matter of fact, jealousy is somehow right and reasonable since it's forcing us to keep the things that belong to us, or which we think they belong to us. This is what Hayato felt as his legs were inevitably bringing him closer and closer to Yamamoto. But as he was only one foot away from the idiot, he couldn't hit him. It hadn't been because of a sudden and irrepressible rush of kindness: Squalo simply had been faster than him and kicked the boy almost ten meters away. The younger fencer flew through the air, until his back hit the wall at the other side of the hall.

"Ah! How many times did I warn you to know your place, brat?" Squalo got up with a mocking grimace on his lips under the shocked glance of Tsuna and Hayato. "You'd better not forget you still have a fucking session tomorrow afternoon. I don't give a fuck about your being stiff and shit." Then, to the attention of the two dumbfounded youths. "Voi, brats! Go see if he's still fucking alive. If that dumb ass isn't breathing, you know the emergency number."

"Yes, sir…" They both replied.

Squalo started stamping with his arms akimbo. "For fuck's sake, even a pillow can take more than this. I wonder if I'm not just losing my fucking time with this trash."

"Umm, sensei?" Tsuna raised a hand.

"Vooi, _what_? Can't you see I'm still talking now?" The silver haired man yelled.

"Hiii! I'm sorry!" The boy lowered his head. "O-o-oustide, sir…"

" _What_? What's outside?"

"Mr. Xanxus is waiting outside!"

Came the second surprise of the evening: Hayato clearly saw the colors on the sensei's face disappear as though the guy had just seen a ghost before him. No, not even a ghost could do that to that weirdo, Hayato thought. The air grew heavier, colder and the lamps on the ceiling died one by one as the raven made his way in the hallway.

"Fucking trash," Xanxus' guttural voice raised in the half-darkness. "Do you fucking know how long I've been waiting for your shitty ass?"

"V-voi, Xanxus…" The older silverette turned back, a drop of sweat dripping on his forehead. He smiled awkwardly. "I… I lost track of time. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. If you let me explain-"

"Shut the fuck up and get your fucking ass out. You're lucky that shrimp brat told me where you've been."

"Shrimp brat?" Squalo asked. Who could that be? He suddenly opened his eyes wide. "Voooi, Xanxus! Don't fucking tell me you get one of your stupid lackeys to follow me! I'm fed up of your paranoiac mind!"

Xanxus walked closer, then stretched his arm to Squalo. But when the latter expected a slap, instead he got the raven's hand caress his hair. "I'm _not_ paranoiac." Said man said menacingly in his ear. _This_ (his chin beckoned toward the passed-out baseball player) is the brat who gave you the hickeys, isn't it?"

Squalo sensed all the importance of the question. An affirmation would have meant Yamamoto's end. As noisy as the boy could be, it would be a shame to kill him. Squalo eluded. "Umm. Anyway, he's already half-dead. No need to do anything else. Now, let's go upstairs?"

"I said we're going out."

"W-why? I thought we were staying at home… V-vooooi!" Squalo shouted when the tanned man picked him up from the ground and hooked him on his shoulder as though he was nothing more than a sack of meat. He cried, totally overtaken by events. "Put me down, you goddamn bastard! I mean it, put me fucking down! I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you! Xanxus, put me doooown!"

But the long haired man's pleadings were no more Hayato's problem when the raven took him out of the building, and out of his sight. Probably not forever, though.

 _-Later the same night-_

"Put me down, ya goddamn asshole!" Squalo was yelling at him. And so did the raven, but not before they got in their hotel room.

The silverette sure can yell and shout fucking loud when he wants to. All the way to hotel – since the minute Xanxus 'abducted' him on the steps of the building, on the back seat of the limousine until the doorman greeted them – he had screamed and struggled on the raven's back. Which, once again, is the obvious evidence that apart from being stupid and blind, most of time, love is also deaf. It was kind of a funny thing to see: a grown-up man piggybacked in that luxurious entrance hallway in the middle of a somewhat shocked, somewhat condescending crowd. But it was also funny to see that no one tried to stop Xanxus as he brought the silverette (now, more fuming than loud) to the elevator.

Yet, before they could get in, a classy man with briefcase and eyeglasses and tailored suit (more than probably some sort of businessman in the middle of an urgent affair) called out at Xanxus, ran to him and rummaged in his briefcase some papers the tanned man had to sign.

Everything was happening very fast, new piece of sheet replacing the former one, and the man didn't even give the impression he had noticed Squalo's presence at all. The long haired man started to believe he had become transparent or invisible to human eye. A light pull on his sleeve however told him he was wrong.

"Hey! Hey, sir," A very young man, almost a boy, in a groom livery, whispered to him. Squalo nearly got a stiff neck as he contorted himself to look back at the boy. "You're with him?"

"Can't you see it?" Squalo replied, vexed. "Voi, make yourself useful and…I don't know! Call a fucking senior, your director or someone else…"

"I can't, sir!" The boy frowned. "This man (he tilted his head toward Xanxus) is the big boss here. He's the owner of this place. We can't do anything without his consent. So? You're with him?"

An ugly sneer twisted the silverette's lips. If he hadn't been in that shameful posture, that kid surely would have been dead by then. A cold and menacing silence covered the tedious one-sided conversation of the raven and that guy Squalo didn't know and didn't care to know.

Then, a chiming. They both got in the elevator where Xanxus finally let go of him. After all, he couldn't escape anymore. Just like the burnt child who dreads fire, Squalo backed in the opposite corner of the lift, arms folded, eyes wild and obvious malevolent vibrations reeking out from his whole being. On the wall, the levels numbers were flickering one after another. Not once did the elevator stop. Xanxus, Squalo and the groom had to bear that awful silence in the closed space.

"How long are you going to stay there?" Xanxus demanded. "Come here."

"Like hell!"

The heavy, awkward silence again. The groom was tapping with his fingers. With his back to the two other idiots, he couldn't see how high the tension was between them. That is, very, very high. And the flickering on the board that didn't stop: 12… 13… 14… 15…

"Ahem… you know," The boy suddenly uttered, almost startling the others. "Sometimes, my girlfriend and I have an argument, too. But we always overcome it, you see? We have a long talk, we cry, but in the end-"

"Fucking trash." The silverette hissed behind him. "No one asked you anything. Keep your shitty advice for your fucking blowup doll."

Xanxus burst out laughing, the boy blushed, the elevator chimed, and then they got out. But when the elevator's door opened, instead of a long and dull carpeted corridor, what they found (more precisely, what Squalo found) was maybe the most beautiful suite with the most beautiful view on Tokyo, the most beautiful woodwork for the furniture and the most beautiful drapery on the walls, everything bathed in that peculiar luminous darkness of the city by night.

Naturally, none give a damn about the oneiric sight.

"I won't forgive you this, you bastard!" Squalo shouted and strode inside. "How can I even show my face in front of them now?"

"In front of who? Those brats? It's still a wonder how you can put up with your stupid job. Why don't you resign?" Xanxus went to sit at the bar and poured himself a glass of whisky. The orangey-brownish liquid was glistening charmingly under a small light, its mighty scent already burning the raven's nostril.

The silverette knitted his brow. It was always funny to annoy him, Xanxus thought. His reactions were starting to get predictable, yet he could never get enough of them. It could be the oh-so pathetic fit of tamper that made the silver haired man look like an old housewife; or only the way he would ruffle at his long and shiny hair, so feathery and soft to the touch.

"Voi… I'm not going to give up every time things don't go the way I want. Don't lump us together." Squalo sat next to the raven and help himself with the bar. A half glass of white wine, slowly gulped down. _Petit joueur_. "You damn spoiled brat." Squalo's greyish orbs were reprimanding, yet barely one second later, was kissing the tanned man.

TBC


	20. Why I won't have to buy a new table

So it's finally the last chapter!... of this year. finally i'm gonna add few more chaps next year. If you want you can leave some requests for the other pairings too!

Aaaa hellish heat. yesterday and eeryday since monday i had been constantly drenched in the rain and now it's the canicula. COMPLETE CANICULA.

Enjoy~ ^o^

* * *

…Yes, things had changed, Xanxus was aware of it. He had let his heart exposed only once, and once it got warmed... once it got warmed, there would be no coming back anymore for none of them. Once he got the silver haired beauty, body and soul, he knew he would tear the latter's wings off and keep him only for him, never letting go of the man.

Tongues licking each other, lips kneading each other and the bitterness of the whisky mixing with the sweetness of the wine, it didn't take long before both males got engrossed in the embrace. How many women could boast about being able to reduce Xanxus to such a level of docility? Xanxus was pretty sure that it was the first time in his life he was letting someone else in charge, that he had never let anyone else before this have any ascendancy on him. Still, if that someone was the silverette, perhaps it wasn't that bad. To a certain extent.

Xanxus pushed the smaller man against the counter, to which the latter answered with hasty fingers trying to undo the former's belt. But the raven certainly wasn't a patient man: before Squalo could get anything over, the raven harshly brought him to a cypress four-poster bed, under a blazing red silk canopy.

"Xanxus…" Squalo murmured when the raven pulled back. They were lying on the mattress, the raven on top of him. Xanxus untied his necktie then pounced on the silverette's collarbone. "Your damn jacket, take it off. Or I'll rip those stupid buttons off."

"This is a fucking Armani suit, you idiot. Rip only one fucking button and I'll break your goddamn fingers."

Squalo's reply was a low growl that truly died like a purr in the raven's ear. No matter how classy a $4,000 worth woolen bespoke suit could sound, when an erection is obviously bulging under the fabric of the pants, the effect is rather spoiled. Squalo tugged at the tail of the raven's shirt and tried to slid his hands under the taller man's trousers, but was hindered in his attempt by the latter's waistcoat. A groan of dissatisfaction went past his lips.

"What with the surplus of clothes?" The silverette panted while Xanxus was nibbling his earlobe, his hands pinning the smaller man's arms on the pillow. "A date?"

"Shut up. You're noisy today." Xanxus gave up and finally undid the jacket and waistcoat's buttons, ending the silverette's agony. Long and thin fingers were rubbing against his skin, tickling where the scars were, while Squalo's left leg was brushing softly all along his side. "And damn hot."

"Really?" Squalo smirked. "It's nice, then. So why don't we end the play and-"

"Quit your job. Work for me."

"Ah?" Squalo blinked, consciousness suddenly back in his foggy mind. Above his, ruby eyes were staring damn seriously at him. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." With the dexterity Squalo was starting to get accustomed to, the tanned man rapidly tugged at his pants.

In a fraction of second, pants, underwear and shirts (all Squalo's) were off on the ground. Waves of pleasure, each one more intense than the previous one, went through Squalo's limbs, his cells burning, his hands desperately searching for a flesh anchor as Xanxus' tongue suddenly rammed into his hole, exploring his depths.

"Mmh-Ah!... Xan-" Squalo's voice was coming in raspy gasps, the sound of suction almost unbearable to his ears. The silverette couldn't control anymore his reactions; his body couldn't stop writhing, his ass shaking under the tanned man's ministrations, and his hands (freed he didn't know how) clinging at the sheets. "Haa… Ngh!"

"This won't do it." Without warning, the raven moved away, eliciting a flinch from the silver haired man. He reached at his necktie, then used it as a blindfold on the smaller man's eyes.

"Ah?... Voi, stop that!" Squalo snapped. He sat up, his hands reaching behind his head as he tried to undo the knot, unsuccessfully. "Voi, Xanxus!"

"Don't move." The raven demanded, and like a marionette, Squalo obeyed, somewhat stunned by the imperative tone.

Xanxus paused a second to look at his captive. Beneath him, the silverette was now naked, still, waiting for his move. Never once before this did he look that gorgeous, that perfect in the dying light which was grazing at the pallid and, here and there, scarred torso, enhancing the relief of the muscles and bones of the limbs and the glistening of his mane. Squalo's body, just like the Sleeping Hermaphroditus, was lying just erotically on the bed, mouth half open, narrow hips so sharp, skinny legs ready to wrap his waist, and hair always tempting Xanxus' fingers to plunge through the silky locks. The raven was fairly certain that since they started having sex together, it was the first time the silver haired beauty was fully giving itself to the hungry crimson orbs, so wanton and abandoned.

Taking advantage of the silverette's unusual stillness, Xanxus began caressing the tempting body. The burning palms started making contact with the perfect and creamy skin on the voluptuous thighs, outlined the contours of the clavicle, marveled at the soft heaving of the chest. And as he did, Squalo slightly parted his moistened lips; his breath was growing fast and his eyebrows were furrowing.

The silverette uttered a muffled cry as the raven took hold of his erected nipples. Xanxus smirked at the smaller man's impatience, at his body opening up for him, waiting so eagerly for him.

"Xanxus… I'm already…" Squalo said, breathless, as he ran his fingers on the tanned torso. And Xanxus fucking wanted them, those cold and thin fingers.

"Shut it, I said."

Once more, Squalo quieted. But with that damn blindfold on his eyes, he couldn't help but feel vulnerable in front of the raven. Each one of the taller man's touch, it's like he could feel them tenfold, even if they were only flickering sensations. He quaked when he felt them descending from his chest to rub again his belly, his hips, his thighs. They were so warm, those calloused hands that could set on fire the nerve-endings throughout his body. So warm, too, was the raven's breath on his throat. Xanxus' scent was so damn overwhelming he felt he could lose his mind by only breathing in a lungful of it. Instinctively, the silverette's reached out for the tanned man's head, only to meet the latter's hands. Xanxus pinned them back on the pillow before crushing his mouth on Squalo's mouth.

"Ha… Ngh…" Squalo panted in the kiss.

He could see nothing, all he could do was to feel the thickness of Xanxus' tongue invading his moist cavern, feel the sensation of the other's hand caressing his sensitive body, feel the warmth, the want and his own surrender to the raven. "Aan!" His spine curved in an arch when he felt something cold and slick between his thighs. "Xanxus! What the fuck…" What was that? Lube? Ice? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that it was smelled kind of good.

"Do you like it?" Xanxus said. At his tone, the silverette could practically see his smirk. "It's chocolate and vanilla… The ice cream, I mean."

Where the fuck did that bastard get fucking ice cream? "You're fucking kidding me! Mmh… Take it out- Nn-ah!"

Xanxus only pushed his fingers deeper in the tight tunnel. Squalo gasped; it was becoming more pleasant. "Ha! No way. If you could see your expression now. You slut."

All of a sudden, there were teeth digging in his thighs, too close to his groin. He didn't like it, Squalo truly didn't like it at all. He could control nothing, could predict none of the raven's move; for a man who had always been a predator, he was for once the prey.

"Hey, it's leaking. Such a fucking naughty body you have here." The coarse voice resounded again, right before the hand that had been fondling him went to torment his erection. Slippery sounds got to the silver head's ears. However, at the moment, it wasn't what was annoying him the most: Xanxus' fingers still were maddening him from the inside, his calloused hand barely skimming the engorged flesh, and that hellish darkness around him, always, always that total darkness!

"Xanxus! Aa…" Squalo whined. He circled his arms around the taller man. "Xanxus, stop this…"

"You really want me to?" A murmur echoing in his earshell. The fingers started moving faster and faster, at each digging making the long haired man cry with pleasure. "When you're already so soft _there_." He pushed in. "Or do you rather have it this way?..." At that moment, ice cream trickled on Squalo's chest. It was such a cold sensation! So different from the inferno in his guts.

"Mph-… Xanxus!... Mnn… Please!"

"Then do what I told you. Quit that shit you call your job. Work for me."

"I'm not fucking… quitting only for- Ngh-aa… you, dumb shit!"

The tanned man suddenly pulled at the smaller man's arms, forcing him to sit up, then tore the necktie off. Squalo opened his eyes with bewilderment as he saw the multiple hickeys on his right thigh, his lower abdomen covered with a mix of precum and ice cream, and Xanxus – Xanxus who was glaring at him so seriously the silverette got the impression he had just said some stupid thing.

"Voi… What's wrong?"

"Give me your hand."

Squalo raised an eyebrow, still extended his hand. The left one (after all, he's left-handed). "Why… Ah?" Xanxus yanked at his hand and put a ring at his third finger. For few seconds, Squalo stared questioningly at the silvery ring, a shiny ring set with only one refined diamond. But then, realization came unto his mind. He brusquely gripped at the piece of jewelry and was about to take it off of his fingers, and he would have succeeded if it hadn't been for the raven holding him back. "Voi, take that off! I'm not fucking wearing this!"

"Yes, you are!" Xanxus strove to shout in spite of the fact he still was struggling with the silverette like a madman. "You're fucking wearing this shit and you fucking resign!"

"Voooi! I'm _not_!"

"You're fucking kidding me, are you? All you're doing of your days is fucking playing with scumbag brats."

"So what?" The silverette sneered. "I'm not sure your wife is going to appreciate a bigamous lifestyle."

Xanxus grimaced. "You still angry about _that_? I'm not marrying that woman anymore."

To this, Squalo answered by almost sticking the left hand under the raven's nose. Or almost punching said nose with the ring. "At any rate, I don't want this! I'm not a damn woman. And I'm not gonna grow boobs for you or shit like this. ("Aa. You're ruining the mood, trash.") You're not seriously thinking about actually getting married with _me_ , are you? Or having me wait for you at home like a fucking housewife? Did you ever think about having kids later?"

"Who's talking about goddamn kids? You stupid cum, I just told you to work for me. It's fucking called _headhunting_."

Squalo was looking intently at the taller man. Yeah, the mood was dead, indeed. What Xanxus was asking from him, that was completely rash and insane! Literally, the raven wanted him to quit not only his job but his whole life for him. A real mountain of selfishness, really.

"Che. Even if I wanted to, I'm not sure I can help you with anything at all." The silver haired man shrugged.

"Let that scum (Ieyasu) decide about that."

"How did you get the wedding canceled? That old geezer back then (Gokudera Jouji) seemed to be pretty serious about it."

"He's not the one I was engaged to. Anyway, I don't want to talk about it now."

"And…" Squalo looked away from the tanned man. "If it's only for work, why did you have to buy a ring for that? That's totally stupid."

"Don't you fucking take it off. I mean it." Xanxus leant forward and pressed their foreheads together. His crimson orbs dove into the grey of Squalo's irises. "If you run away again, I'll kill you."

They kissed again. And soon the mood was back again. Throughout that night, creaking and panting and moaning and shouting could be heard in the suite, and they didn't stop until early in the morning. Anyway, for the first time since weeks, the silverette didn't have to fear being left alone in the bed anymore when he woke up.

…

Squalo never had to take the ring off. A romantic would have said that it was because the fact the ring was the symbol of their love, of their commitment to each other; that taking it off would have meant betraying themselves and the other (Xanxus was also wearing one but without the gem). And Squalo would have said that that was all bullshit. In reality, the raven didn't lie when he said he was recruiting him, but he _omitted_ to tell in what exactly his job would consist: an enormous, never-going-to-decrease amount of work, with the result that the silverette totally forgot about the ring.

It was nonetheless an interesting yet pathetic fact to see how a single word from Xanxus could influence him. He had always loved his former job (if truth be told, what he truly couldn't stand was only the students), and in spite of this, with only a snap of the tanned man's fingers, Squalo left everything behind.

Almost frightening.

It wasn't as if he was that obedient and faithful (or rather yes, he _was_ ), but that morning, when he woke up in the bed with the raven next to him, a thought popped in his mind: that this kind of situation, no matter how nice and sweet it could be, was in no way granted. One day or another, Xanxus would leave again, he would get married, forget about him, then the same disappointment and despite would be back again. Perhaps was it childish and shameful for a grown up man to feel such way, but Squalo didn't want to go through that again. He didn't want to suffer again the loss of someone he got attached to. The same firmness that helped Squalo to resist to love indeed also helped to make it more violent and lasting – a maxim that actually suited both of them.

The silverette then had to swap his cozy flat in a small and tranquil town for Xanxus' gigantic mansion lost somewhere in the middle of Sicilia. Ieyasu said it was a good occasion to get accustomed to his new life as the tanned man's _steady partner_. At first, Squalo thought it would be a total failure: seriously speaking, who in those more or less uncivilized parts of the so-very- conservative Italy could accept their… arrangement? However, the silverette was quite of a lucky man. Xanxus was an only child and it seemed each one of his adoptive father's relatives was whether dead or too old to give a damn about the raven's life. Of course, there were remote cousins, nephews and so on, but this time, it was Xanxus' turn not to give a damn about them.

That issue, at least, was arranged.

But when he announced his resignation in Namimori U, Squalo really hadn't expected the waves of protests, both from the students and his co-workers (most of them the silverette didn't have the slightest idea who the hell they were) and the tears and the 'whyyy?'s. The doyen had been crying in his office for days, wailing about how he could find someone as competent (and beautiful) as the silverette; Squalo truly could have done without watching it.

But more annoying stuffs were waiting for him. First of them was certainly to have a talk with the katana brat. The older swordsman felt _a little_ embarrassed for what he was going to do. At first, he was the one who didn't want the brat to leave and continue training with him… and in the end, he was the one who was leaving. Yamamoto Takeshi reacted exactly the same way as the other; that is, with the protests, the 'whyyy's, but fortunately without tears. His tutor would kill him on the spot if he saw him cry. Therefore they parted in the manliest way swordsmen could part – in Squalo's mind, with another fight, a fight Squalo easily won as always.

"So you're really leaving." Yamamoto said after their last session as they were sitting right on the floor of the usual gymnasium. There was a partially hidden sadness in the youth's words, but Squalo only brushed it away. "When?"

"After two days or three. I think it'll be enough for getting over with administrative things."

"Ah…"

"Voi, stop making that shitty face!" Squalo roared at him. "It's not as if I'm dying or whatever!"

"You're going to Italy! That's practically the other side of the world!"

The silverette kicked the younger man's leg then got up. "It's _not_! And don't you fucking forget training. Next time I see you, you'd better show me something that won't disappoint me."

"Yeah…" Takeshi answered while getting on his feet.

'Yeaaah.' What was that dejected reply? Squalo pondered angrily as he looked at the still depressed dark haired youth. Was that truly a man he raised like his fucking pupil? He would have beaten the boy _very_ badly if it could remove that ugly expression from his face. How ironical. How many times did he tell Yamamoto to stop grinning like a plain idiot, but now he wasn't, it wasn't better…

"Voi…" Nonchalantly, the silverette's hand went to pat the youth's hair. "Act like a fucking man, damnit."

It was obvious how hard Takeshi was trying not to hug the silver head without the latter's consent – it seemed those many months of Pavlovian training of hitting and beating finally kicked in. So Squalo got out before the old reflexes were back.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. So that was a farewell, he thought. If someone that looked somehow baanced reacted that way, so what about some overdramatizing and melodramatic blond of his acquaintances…

No, one way or another, it would be a bad idea to tell him goodbye.

As he said, two days later, Squalo was off, at that time still totally unaware of what was waiting for him once the jet would land. And maybe he should have worried about it a little more instead of laughing at half of the discography of Charlie Chaplin throughout the flight from Tokyo to Palermo.

As a matter of fact, during the two first months he spent in the island at Xaxnxus' service, he had to learn _by heart_ every case VR Co. was involved in, the parties concerned, the contexts, issues and decisions to be applied and so on… He was getting to know the raven's 'friends', his 'family' and all. To make it short, the silverette was succeeding to Ieyasu as Xanxus' _Consigliere_. Ieyasu indeed had been Timoteo's _Consigliere_ for nearly twenty years, and after the first boss passed away, he became Xanxus'. Consequently, it lasted for more or less thirty years. Needless to say his family life suffered greatly from this situation; plus, in the end, it wasn't as though the old man could manage the raven at all.

Of course, there was that peculiar state Squalo and Xanxus were in, but Xanxus didn't take offence. He could have the silverette's brain and ass whenever and wherever he wanted, mostly when he was so drunk he couldn't tell anymore the difference between his office and a brothel – even if in truth, they were both so overloaded with work (in particular Squalo) that they could barely find any time to be alone together. Finally, there was nothing such as a real winner in their game. Anyway, (this is something the former _Consigliere_ never told Xanxus) Ieyasu was way contented using the silver haired man's gifts for influencing his boss _for_ them instead of having anyone else using it _against_ them.

At any rate, it wasn't as though he was on neither holiday nor honeymoon. With his new job, Squalo barely could find any time to sleep at night. Everyone around him was always: read this report, deal with that son of a bitch magnate, validate those numbers from the company's auditor… The amount of work was enough to render a normal person mad. But then again, bizarrely, Squalo easily got used to it. That was another one of what Ieyasu called his particular gifts.

"Haa… So fucking tired…" Squalo heaved a sigh and stretched his spine on his _new_ couch, in his _new_ study, in his _new_ house – or to be more precise, the Vongola's mansion – with a laptop on his stomach, the screen still encumbered with confidential information about the company. The last open window was showing the final cross-checking of a deal with someone from the Gokudera clan.

The silver haired man closed the computer.

What a shame, though. Two months in Sicilia and he nearly did nothing apart working. The only time he saw the Mediterranean sea was when he was on his plane, and the little landscape he caught sight of had been principally the main town and the vicinity of the mansion. As his identity card could testify, Squalo too was a native Italian, but as far as he could recall, he didn't precisely have a single memory of the soft warmth of the sun there, of the scent of the ocean or a favorite taste in his mouth. Nothing…

Nothing except for that dirty and chaotic house in the suburbs the silverette had been living in with Sarah, decades ago.

"Aa. Stupid images again." Squalo mumbled as he tried to drive the ugly scenery out of his mind. But it was no use, they were already waiting for him.

…

How long hadn't he thought about them? About his childhood with his mother – a girl too young to be called a mother or even to be called a woman. Squalo rested his head on a soft cushion, hooked his legs on the couch's back, then closed his eyes. One second later, when he opened them, what he saw wasn't the moulding of the ceiling and the copper chandelier high above his head; it wasn't the spacious and luminous drawing-room with the fire-place, the elegant paintings hanged on the wall altogether with the wall lamps, or the Persian carpets whose vivid colors were blending remarkably with the curtains masking the huge windows, the night-lights, cushions on the couch and armchairs and other soft furnishings in the lounge.

None of them.

What he saw was a small room of which one couldn't tell anymore if it was truly a living-room or a ditch. Mud and dirty dishes and empty bottles and loads of bags filled with garbage of all sort had piled up in the closed place, and so they were giving off an awful stench similar to the smell of a dead rat, but not quite like it. In the midst of that dirt, a skinny boy with hair almost white was crouching right on the floor, arms folded on his knees and greyish eyes too heavy for his age locked on the immobile form of a woman before him.

She was lying on the floor, but she wasn't breathing. Eyes that must have been of a beautiful grey were lost in the void, and long and slightly curled hair was scattered on the ground. She was wearing a torn dress and on her limbs were blossoming apparent dark ecchymosis.

It had been four of five days the boy had stayed in that room with the cadaver of his mother. Now and then, people had knocked on the door, but he didn't open. He just stayed there, looking at her. Somehow, deep in his mind, he knew that by some means he had to get out of that grave; he simply couldn't resign himself. It was as if that day he saw his mother (still alive) coming home in that horrible state, falling on the ground and not rising up again, he had lost all will to move on.

And yet, it wasn't the first time this kind of thing was happening. Sarah was always coming home late at night. She was an unmarried mother and was piling up small jobs to pay the bills, leaving the 'fort' to her boy. And the boy would always do everything to keep the house clean and leave her dinner in the kitchen for when she was back. Sometimes, strange people would knock violently at the door, shouting and calling for her. They would break the window panes, write obscenities on the door (it wasn't something they liked a lot in the surroundings, unmarried mothers), throw their trashes inside. Those weren't the best days of his life, but it still was better than when she was jobless; then she would stay at home and do nothing apart from drinking and crying in the bed.

But Sarah said she loved him. She had always loved him, in her own way. That was how the boy learnt that love doesn't necessarily have to look like what Disney is showing to children, with the princesses, the fairies and the birds singing in the sky at the wedding ceremony.

On that fateful night, the boy thought she would wake up after few hours but she didn't. He waited, the knocks and yelling came back, but she didn't wake up.

They found the boy ten days later, still crouched next to the putrefied corpse. Neighbors had complained about some infect smell from their house, that it was stirring up all the stray dogs in the town. They tried to talk to the boy, to ask him what had happened. He just said that Sarah was dead and he didn't know what to do with her body. Very calmly. Too calmly. They suspected some kind of trauma, but doctors said he was completely alright.

He was placed in a host family. The first on a long list. The boy hated those people. Specially that fat ass in his, what, third, fourth family? The fat ass caressed his butt, rubbed his thing against him and forced the boy's mouth open to put his tongue inside. The boy cut that ugly tongue with a knife he found on the table next to him. Police concluded it was self-defense and just closed the case.

Luckily from him, with all of this, the social worker finally deemed the boy could live alone. By that time, he had mostly forgotten the dark and smelly flat, the mocking and haughty looks in the people he met in the streets, and the false pity he sensed in his teachers and classmates' voice when they were talking to him. Nevertheless, what the boy couldn't forget was the feeling of control and contentment he felt with the knife in his hand.

It happened a little before the boy entered high school. Then, he found some kind of blond and clumsy moron, constantly gravitating around him. For four years, the blond hadn't let go of him. Strange thing, though, since everyone else but him was trying to avoid the boy. The boy didn't know how, but through years, he won the reputation of a bully. It wasn't truly fair, though: since long, other kids had been trying to pick up fights with him, and so he would only give them his respects.

There were also the times the blond and he were talking about miscellaneous stuff, about what they wanted to do 'later', what they wanted to become. The boy didn't have an idea of what he wanted to do and didn't truly care about it. The blond moron said he was doing pretty well with a sword (by that time, he had bought an old spatha at an antique-dealer and was practicing with it everyday), so why didn't he try to turn professional? The boy laughed at that joke.

And then, after graduation, he turned towards what seemed to be the most logical choice for him, that is, learning to cut living beings in the most efficient way. He chose biology – the boy… no, the youth had too little interest in saving people from death to become a surgeon, or to save them from _starving_ to death by becoming a butcher. Still, the same dilemma came back by the end of his studies. That was by that time another boy (in whose family he was an au pair) told him something like he, the guy who had cut a man's tongue, wasn't bad at teaching. The biggest evidence was what he had done with the boy and his twin brother.

At that moment, Squalo's phone rang, awakening him from his reminiscences. He groped around him to find the device.

"Mm-yeallo." He gabbled.

" _You damned trash, fucking pick up when I'm fucking calling_!" Xanxus roared at the end of the line. " _You're fucking paid for that, aren't ya_?"

Squalo grunted and instinctively ruffled his hair. He opened the computer again, turned it on and tapped randomly on the keyboard. "What do you want? If it's about yesterday's contract, it's already done. They agreed on every term. No reclamation of any sort. And also, Floriano called. He said he had to meet with you once you're in Italy. It sounded urgent. I'll check on that after I finish handling the Casares case and-"

" _Now shut up and listen, you dumb shit._ " The raven suddenly burst. " _I'm back in Sicilia tonight. You'd better have your schedule cleared by then_."

"Aa? Why? I tell you there's still that damn problem with your damn Arabian prince. If his man comes here, no matter at any time, I have to-"

" _Can't you fucking shut up?_ " Xanxus hissed. " _I'll send a fucking car. Don't forget your passport_."

He should have felt angry, yet Squalo couldn't suppress a smile. He knew how hard it was for the raven to ask that from him. How many things had changed in his life, how many things would never go back the same again… And on the other hand, how many things had _he_ changed in that pigheaded bastard, his lover, Xanxus' life?

"Roger… Voi, Xanxus." The silverette turned the PC off and sat up, perfectly composed and voice steady.

" _What? I'm in a hurry_."

"I love you."

 _Beep_.


	21. It's Valentine's Day

Ooooooi! So i'm back after... how long dattake. i can't remember~

So as promised, here is the continuation of or XS fanfiction. this one is just a special chapter for valentine, though, but the regular chaps will begin in march

If o're intersted, i post an news on m FB page Xanxus x Squalo. It's me ranting and alota pics of XS *o*

So enjoooo! ^^

* * *

It was already late. 11p.m, maybe later, but Superbi Squalo, Xanxus' new right-hand man, didn't seem to notice the late hour. Sitting on a couch in the raven's office, few meters only from his boss' desk, he was virtually fighting with the astronomical amount of numbers displayed on the screen of his laptop. Curses were coming in a mumble while the long haired man was tapping nervously at his temple and alternatively crossing and uncrossing his thin legs.

The January reports kept on rousing sighs of incomprehension from Squalo. Something was whether wrong, miscalculated or those idiots in the audit department didn't do their previsions well, because the silverette was gravely pondering on throwing the damn computer away so much the data files were absurd and illogical.

"Just how the fuck did those trashes do to mess things up that badly?" He muttered. "That fucking Thomson was near bankruptcy, they were on a fucking trial for a fucking tax fraud and those dimwitted scums still couldn't speed the damn takeover? And now they've settled a deal with the State… And that goddamn unit in Turkey… No matter how much money the European branch can make, they're a fucking drag… And that fucking loss for the Asian branch… Wait… 2billions…4.5… 7 for the past year? Ah, fuck it!"

He gave up. He tossed the computer away before lighting a cigarette. Soon a white, almost translucent smoke was hovering around his head.

That was his first break since that morning. Squalo looked beat up: his hair was a mess, his clothes were a mess, dark rings were blossoming under his greyish eyes, even more accentuated by the feeble and airy light coming from the glass wall, only source of light in the vast yet dark room. The silverette couldn't even remember when was the last time he had had a proper meal or a proper night of sleep… Well, surely not that day nor the day before.

Squalo leaned on the back of the couch, lazily rubbed his tired eyelids then took another puff of nicotine.

"Voi, I'm stuck here for the night, so what are you still waiting for?" He asked the raven who had been seated on his throne the whole time, silent and motionless, like a granite statue.

Xanxus was dignified, as always. Arms folded, tanned and scarred face for the moment a mask of imperturbable composure – just like a sky in summer: burning, radiant and seemingly calm, but none could tell when the storm would tear that calmness away. He looked as if he was asleep, but Squalo knew he wasn't (as a matter of fact, only the silverette dared raising his voice when the boss was sleeping, or seemed like he was). Anyway, this was just adding more to the absurdity of the situation.

Why the absurdity? One only had to take a look at the raven's office to understand why: bouquets, presents packed in fluffy boxes with the ribbons, the hearts and a multitude of girly stuff that had been growing in number during the whole day. They were so numerous they were filling half of the office, all surrounding the dark and placid tanned man who now gave the impression he was totally out of place in the middle of that realm of love and softness.

However, Squalo was too tired to give a damn about it. Every time the deliveryman would bring a new present for Xanxus, he couldn't even affect the slightest air of annoyance anymore. At the moment, all he wanted was to forget everything and go back home, and he simply couldn't figure out why Xanxus, who didn't even have anything to do at work that day, hadn't lost his temper and left that sweetish room yet.

"You're quite patient today," Squalo said as he threw the fag-end in an ashtray on a nearby coffee table. He lit up another cigarette. "That's stunning. And no one can make you stay here that long…"

"Shut up scum." Xanxus grunted. "Do you know what fucking day are we today?"

What day?... That was a good question, because at some point Squalo had completely lost track of time. "Umm… Yesterday was Wednesday, wasn't it? So today we're Thursday… Or Friday! Friday. Because we had a meeting with Viren this morning-"

"It's Sunday, you dumbass."

"Oh? Is that so?" The silverette resumed his work on the laptop. "That's bad. Tomorrow I have to see Leandro about the US case. If it keeps on like this, I'll have to handle it myself…"

"Squalo." Xanxus demanded. The silver haired man faintly started as he wasn't used to hear his lover calling him by a name other than 'trash', 'scum' or 'idiot'. "Come here."

Squalo complied and walked to the raven's desk. "Voi, what's wrong? I told you, if you want to go home, it's okay. I'll be a little late but-"

"I'm not talking about that. What day are we today?"

Squalo grimaced. So that was _it_ , he sighed. Seriously, what were they to care about something as childish and sweetish as Valentine's day? High school teenagers? "Voooi. If you're asking for a present, I've bought _nothing_ , okay? Lately I've been too busy preventing stupid douchebags from ruining your stupid company. It's not an easy job. I'm not gonna remember every single shitty feast day that greeting cards sellers are making up every single shitty year. And there's already enough shit in this room, I'm not adding another one. Plus, it's fucking stupid. Just what kind of silly bitches did you use to fuck before for receiving all those fucking presents? Certainly brainless sluts. (He picked up a card on a bouquet of flowers and started reading the message written on it) 'I miss you and your big dxxx'. Voi, as I said: brainless sluts. Moreover…"

Needless to say that the rest of Squalo's soliloquy was falling into deaf ears. Actually, something else was drawing Xanxus' attention, something more interesting: it was the very first time he saw the silverette wearing glasses. A very ordinary fact for the silverette, truly, mostly when he had to use a computer for too long. However, it wasn't the case for Xanxus.

Glasses have that strange particularity that they make the person who is wearing them look strangely different. They may make them look wiser, more serious, more trustworthy, but for the raven, they were just a hindrance. It wasn't as though the tanned man believed that the silverette had the most stunning grey eyes he'd ever seen (though he truly did), or that the occasional device was hardening the latter's soft features, which were already hardened enough by Squalo's usual angry expression. He just didn't like them.

"Why the fuck do you have to wear them?" Xanxus cut the other male's monologue.

"Ah? Wear what?"

"Eyeglasses."

The silverette instinctively brought his left hand to the criticized glasses. "Those? Because I need them when I work. They're more convenient than lens. And I've had them for a long time, maybe since I started teaching…"

Something started ringing deep in the raven's mind. That was right: those damn eyeglasses made him look like a damn teacher. All right, there was something somehow erotic in thinking about fucking one, but once they weren't in the bed anymore, they only became a constant reminding of the life the silverette had to leave behind in order to follow him. Why the hell didn't Squalo just leave them the way he had left his apartment, almost all of his belongings and especially all the memories he had of that time?

But he hadn't thrown those fucking glasses.

Suddenly, Xanxus hated them. All of the silverette's life, his past, his future, and mainly his present should have been _his_ and _his_ only. There should have never been even a single fragment that wasn't under his dominance. Yet, the eyeglasses reminded him, always, always, that if he owned the silverette's life, there is always that precise period of his life which he doesn't belong. He already had a hard time getting rid of the silver haired idiot's courtiers, not that long ago.

Squalo so easily gave up on everything, he so easily fit his new life… Didn't that also mean that any other life would have been okay for him? The long haired man could become anyone, anything, this meant nothing for him. Inversely, if he decided to leave the raven the day after, to leave his new job, his new place, he could effortlessly find something else he would master in no time.

That was infuriating. That was maddening. That was upsetting. How could he live with the silverette knowing that, without ever feeling reassured?

"I'm horny." The raven grunted. "Get your fucking ass here."

Squalo brushed his hair back. "Voi. Maybe you can't see it, but I'm fucking tired and sleepy, right now. Can't you just let me finish the work here and go to sleep like a normal person?"

"Huuh?" Xanxus smirked. "Do I have to remind you what fucking day are we today?"

A low groan resounded in Squalo's throat. He was annoyed, but raven didn't care. That idiot was his property. Why should he care about offending a property's fucking feelings? He'd make him angry, he'd make him cry, he'd make him moan; that was all Xanxus' rights.

A normal human being would have grown tired and left since long. Why Superbi Squalo didn't quit was a wonder for the raven. Yes, it was a total wonder, nevertheless in the same time there was a hidden fear behind the scarred man's roughness.

And if he actually quit?

The answer to this last question was a turmoil of contradictory thoughts in the raven's brain: roaring fury, silent anguish, deadly hatred and cold repulsion were whirling inside him. Still, up until now, they had had no occasion to burst out, for the simple reason that Squalo _still_ was there.

Because, regardless of Xanxus' verbal and physical abuse, regardless of both men's awkwardness and that relationship that looked like it would wreck at any time, even if exiting the raven's world would have been so easy for him, Squalo _still_ was there, with him. For how long, none could tell. But what's the point of worrying about such petty stuff, as long as the silverette was by his side?

And as though Squalo's mind had followed the raven' trail of thought, a grin came stretching his oh so tender lips.

"Bossy, are we?"

Like a cat, he jumped on the raven's desk, disturbing on his way the pinky presents, then sat right in front of the latter, the smirk plastered on his face hiding thousands meanings: 'I'm here for your entertainment, I'm here for you to take. I'll pull you away from your hauntings. I'll let you have me, surprise me, eat me while you're enjoying this body you've come to own.'

One could think that having only one sex partner would upset the raven. This was partly true and false. True because he had to wait for the silver haired trash to be over with his endless works which seemed to _never_ come to an end, and once he was through, most of time he would just fall asleep and wouldn't wake up before hours. Oh, Xanxus had thought about banging him in his sleep… which leads us to why the previous assertion was false.

Someone who had tasted the gorgeous silverette's beauty only once would never forget that body again. The raven _needed_ to see that body squirm, to hear that sharp voice calling for him, the yearn burning in those heavy greyish eyes. Of course, he'd wait. At least, as long as his patience (and dick) would allow him.

"Shut it. You just shut your damn mouth and let me do you."

Xanxus tugged rudely at the silverette's waist, forcing him to come closer, before pulling the latter's pants and underwear down. Squalo's fingers began unbuttoning the tanned man's shirt, hurriedly pacing from a button to another, when Xanxus slapped his hands away.

"Don't you fucking do any useless thing."

"Useless, you say…" The silver haired man's bare foot trailed lusciously on the raven's clothed thigh, igniting waves of electricity through his limbs. A light grunt went past Xanxus' lips when it finally rest on the bulge under his zipper. Squalo's toes were pressuring here and there on the concealed – though easily guessed – half-hard cock. "But you need it, don't you? Otherwise, how do you want me to fix this up?"

And as he talked, the foot was lustfully massaging Xanxus. He let the long haired man play a little. This meant he was in a good mood, if he wanted to do it even if he was that tired. Squalo was completely focused on his task, as the result he forgot undressing his upper part. His eyes, two glimmering ponds towering above the raven, saw nothing but Xanxus, Xanxus' reaction from his teasing, Xanxus' exasperation slowly but surely growing unbearable. Gradually, the silver haired man turned out to be a real sex toy for the raven's use.

How long did it take to mould the silverette as his ideal wish, to make him know exactly where and how to touch the raven, how to respond to the latter's touch, at his kisses, how he wanted him to moan? Xanxus couldn't tell. But the result of his training, of each one of their embrace, of each time they would find release in each other's arms, the result was there, before him: a hot and beautiful silver haired man, whose body belonged to no one else but him, a body that wouldn't react to no one else but him.

"Do you want me to take them off, I mean my glasses?" Squalo asked, somewhat amused.

"… No." The raven replied. Fuck the past that would never be his. The smaller man was fucking hot with the fucking eyeglasses on.

Squalo's massaging was light, merely enjoyable, but both knew perfectly that that wasn't enough for the raven. He wanted something warmer, tighter… All of a sudden, he grabbed the smaller man's ankle and yanked him down the desk. The silverette yelled when his forehead hit the ground.

"Voi! Are you fucking mad? Why did you have to do that, you goddamn psycho?"

Xanxus had left his armchair and was crouching before the silverette, ruby eyes locked with grey ones. "That little playing is fucking lame. Your hands, on the wall."

Annoyed, the silverette sure was, but he too wanted to get over with the foreplay as quick as the taller man. Silently complying with his boss' order, he got on his knees and leant his arms on the bay window, so that he had now his back to the raven.

The view Squalo got from that place was breathtaking. From about sixty floors above the ground, he had a spectacular sight of the city bathed in the night, thousands of lights brightening the darkness and making the city look like a jewel, mixing with the thousands of stars shining in the dark blue sky. He could see them all.

But not only the city.

If he focused enough, Squalo could clearly see the reflection of his body and Xanxus' slowly lowering above him. He couldn't help but shiver when he felt callous hands making contact with his waist. He was eager to feel more, to see more.

Squalo turned back to look at the raven, smirking lustfully. "Boss, since you seem to care about today… How about I let you come in all~ your favorite place?" And in a half-innocent, half-shameless way, he brushed his naked buttocks against the raven's lap while licking at his lower lip.

"I don't need your fucking permission for that, bitch." Xanxus spat and roughly pinned the silverette's hands on the wall. Without any preparation, he dryly thrust his rock hard flesh in Squalo's hole and began pumping pitilessly, not letting a single moment of rest for the latter. It was hard to breathe, hard to converge his thoughts into a single point. Even keeping balance with those deep and powerful shoving of that gigantic shaft (on that detail, Squalo agreed with the sender of the card) in his most sensitive place.

Squalo doesn't complain for that much. Xanxus was more than aware of the fact that the silver haired man liked it rough, strong enough to tear him apart. That masochistic shark would only bend the right way, angle his back the right angle so that those painful poundings rapidly became as pleasurable for the taller man as for him. Matching Xanxus' impaling with his backwards thrusts, opening his legs wide and raising his ass as high as he could, Squalo soon found his own pace.

Squalo's breath was coming in short pants staining the glass wall with a thin steam. In spite of that, he could clearly see their bodies moving in a pageant rhythm, slowly but surely covered with sweat.

Oh, he could see everything too well, from the way the raven's hips was going back and forth, so forcefully, so viciously, the way his lower body was rocking altogether with the tanned man's, the way his shoulders and knees were shaking under Xanxus. And that heat, that hellish heat, he could see the reason so well: it was going in and out, in and out, stretching his entrance like nothing before, that dark red appendage.

"Aa… Ha!... Xanxus!... So good… Deeper… Go deeper…" The silverette moaned.

"Like this?" Xanxus pushed profoundly at a different angle.

"Ha-aan!"

This time, Squalo couldn't take it anymore. His hands slipped from the wall to lay on the floor. That way, the view he was getting of what was happening behind him was even more distinct. Xanxus could see him eyeing hungrily at their reflection, face not even showing the smallest amount of shame anymore.

Too fucking hot.

The raven propped himself on the glass with one hand not to fall with him, while with the other he was fondling/pinching/tugging at the smaller man's nipples. "Already close, trash?"

"Mmh…"

Xanxus sneered as he felt the tightness around his manhood squeezing him like a burning vice. Fuck, that was how he loved his shark: a horny and demanding mess. He loved to know that beyond that pale skin, that silver, almost white hair, there was a hunger as bright and red as his own passion. It was practically the agony of an insatiable thirst that was uniting those two beings, an untraceable curse behind an outside uncomfortable coldness.

"But. You're not allowed to come before I tell you."

"Ch-che! Aan… Haa… Hurry up, bastard…"

Xanxus humph-ed. Tanned hands slid on the perfect torso, on the perfect waist and the perfect thighs before stopping at creamy hips, pushing the silverette forward when he pulled out and pulling him back when he was going in. Beneath him, the silverette's precum was already overflowing and soiling his belly and inner thighs. Somehow, Xanxus' shoving were more smooth too, less painful.

Looking at their image on the glass, Squalo caught a glimpse of Xanxus' dick, all cover with the white proof of his impending climax. With his razor sharp nails and teeth, he was breaking the skin of the silverette's back and shoulders. It was paler than before. Maybe because he was spending all his time between four walls. Maybe someday he should take him outside, in a sunny place…

"Xanxus!..." Squalo shuddered violently. "No more… I'm coming!"

"Tsk. No choice then."

Without a warning, Xanxus hauled Squalo backward. Now the smaller man was sitting on his lap with an 8inches long erected penis up in his ass. In that position, the tanned man practically had the long and silvery hair in his face and obstructing the precious view, that's why he wasn't that fond of it. Squalo, on the contrary, looked like he enjoyed it pretty well.

Squalo gripped hard at the raven's neck, eyes shut close from the pleasure. "Fuck!... Fuck! Fuck! Xanxus!"

It didn't take more than few pounding to make the silverette explode. Taking advantage of the incredible stiffness of the long haired man's inner muscles, Xanxus gave two hard, accurate thrust before letting go of his own semen inside of the smaller man.

"…!"

…

Few minutes later, Squalo was totally dead to the world. Too bad for Xanxus, indeed, since he wanted it to last a little longer in retaliation of all those days the silverette had ignored him because of work.

Leaning carelessly on the raven's torso, eyeglasses finally removed (by Xanxus), breath even and body totally abandoned to slumber, the silverette was asleep. Xanxus had tried to wake him up; no matter what, he _wanted_ at least a second round.

"Stupid scum…" He said when he understood he wouldn't get more from him that night. The trash was heavy. He thought about pushing him away – that _would_ wake him up, for sure. But someway, he couldn't resign himself to do so. So, did that mean he would have to wait for that idiot to wake up if he wanted to go home? No fucking way… Or also, that he would have to carry him, at least until they got in the car…

Xanxus cursed himself under his breath. That was the unique solution he could find at the moment.

Such a tiresome lover.


	22. Today is a new day!

So heeey everyooone i'm back. Yeah, i know i was supposed to stop this story after the 20th chap, but then it was valentines day & i had (of course) to write a special chap... & then i got alota ideas (too many ideas) for that chap but they couldln't all fit in only 4000 words. So... I'm back! ^^

* * *

It's dark… Yeah, it truly is. But once I open my eyes, I know there will be nothing but light. Light overflowing everywhere, filling every corner of the bedroom with white. I don't wanna wake up. I'm not gonna open my eyes. Not this time, when my pillow is so soft under my head. It smells clean laundry. I love that smell. It's there on the sheets, on the mattress, even in the air. It feels so good… So soft and cold…

So Squalo was thinking, half-daydreaming half-smiling in his bed on that morning, when something suddenly made his thoughts focus on something less agreeable.

Something hot, burning and _hard_ pressing against his thigh. He grunted with boredom.

"Damnit… _Xanxus_ , stop that. Are you a fucking teenager for being horny that early in the morning? I'm sleeping, for God's sake!"

The hotness, and in the same time Xanxus' weight shifted behind the silverette's back. An arm went to circle his waist, a calloused hand grazing at the pallid skin of his torso and belly as the raven's breath became heavier on his sensitive neck.

"You idiot." The tanned man replied. "If your mouth can be that damn annoying that early in the morning, it means you're fucking already awake."

Now, surely Squalo was, yet he still had some little hope. Eyes shut tight, he mumbled, "Vooi… I can't afford to miss my flight. And I don't want to look like a sleep deprived zombie for the rest of the day. I've already told you I'll have a meeting right after I get to New York."

"Like I give a fuck, stupid trash. What's the point of having a private jet if you still have to fucking worry for shitty details?"

And seriously, Xanxus didn't, neither did his left hand as it grabbed the silver haired man's member and started stroking it as awake as its owner.

"Damn you…" Squalo hissed, his eyes slightly cracked open. It was no use trying to reason with that stubborn bastard, even less when said bastard was in that kind of state. So the silverette just let him do as he pleased. Maybe he could go back to sleep after Xanxus was over with him. Casting a rapid glance at the screen of his phone on the nightstand: half past six. Good. There was still three hours left before departure. 'Let's just hope Xanxus' morning sex wouldn't last more than that.'

The silver haired man's body bent docilely when Xanxus took hold of his leg, making it hang lusciously in the air. The hotness came back, this time forcing its way between Squalo's buttocks. The latter suppressed a sigh as Xanxus' length smoothly made its way deep inside him.

"Hee. Still moist from last night?" The raven grinned. "It'll make things easier for me."

"Shut up. Do it quickly."

That order was totally out of place. The raven clearly made that fact known by pounding hard in the smaller man, so hard that even if his insides didn't need much preparation, it still really hurt. " _You_ shut up, bitch. You're only allowed to moan like the bitch you are."

Squalo wanted to punch the tanned man for those words – more for the words than for the pain Xanxus was inflicting him, as a matter of fact. But since he couldn't do much in his position, Squalo just settled on actually keeping his mouth close and gripping the mattress tightly to counterbalance the raven's hard thrusts as they were turning more and more powerful with every second.

The rare contact of their skin, the wet sound coming from their connecting flesh, and Xanxus kissing, lapping, chewing that particular place between his shoulder blades, then his tongue trailing lazily on Squalo's spine…. Fuck, it felt great. As uncaring and rough as Xanxus could be, that bastard nevertheless could ignite the silverette's flesh and bones as fast as a forest fire in summer. But no way would he let the raven know, not after what that asshole said. Teeth gritting painfully, fingers not letting go of the sheets while the bed under them was creaking like in a constant complaint, the silverette had decided to be as stubborn as his boss.

However, it wasn't an easy challenge, and the raven actually was determined to have the silverette surrender to him. A total surrender, a complete victory, whether it came to sex or business, Xanxus didn't know anything else and didn't need to know anything else. And a hard slap, a deep shoving dead on the smaller man's bundle of nerves had been the beginning of Squalo's defeat.

"Ah!..." Barely a sigh, a squeak, a silent whine betrayed the silver haired man, and on the other hand made the raven smirk. Propping himself on his elbow, the rhythm of his hips grew faster. Now, Xanxus had an acceptable view on the silverette's face, that beautiful face the latter was striving, though without success, to keep composed. Simply enticing.

For a second, Xanxus paused his ministrations. He flipped the silverette so that they could face each other and, in a total selfish action, he caught Squalo's lips in an avid and capsizing kiss.

"Mmh… Ngh!... Ha…" Squalo couldn't help but hold on the raven's shoulders, then miss the touch of said raven's lips when the latter slowly drew backwards. Ruby orbs, dark and spiky hair, hot and tanned skin were everything the long haired man could focus his attention on; then the well-built body, the broad shoulders, the muscular abs; then the connection between both males' bodies, there between his legs spread wide open for the raven, so damp and slick and dripping, with Xanxus' dick throbbing painfully deep inside him, stretching the twitching ring of muscles, and his own arousal hard against his stomach, ready to climax at any time…

"Xanxus… Do it quickly…"

This time, it wasn't an order. More a pleading, the pray of a starving slave to his master.

"The jet is only leaving at ten." With an unreadable expression, Xanxus took the silverette's wrist in his hand and kissed the delicate inward skin. "I'll have you despoiled till then."

To this, Squalo found nothing else to reply but turning a deep red.

…

Almost in the same time, at the other side of the world.

Something was ringing, ringing, ringing atrociously in his ears. Just like a hammer constantly hitting his very brain.

"What the hell is that…" Lambo groped about in the darkness to find where that hellish sound was coming from. His hand finally made contact with a plane and cold surface. Tired green irises slowly appeared behind heavy eyelids, both turning to the smartphone's screen. "Huh… Huh? What's that…?" It was ten past nine. "Yeah, yeah, but what did I set an alarm for?..."

Lambo ruffled his jet black hair then lit a bedside lamp. Dim yellow light tainted the walls of the young man's bedroom in a gaudy and eye soaring canary color, highlighting the holy mess of the small room: creased clothes scattered all over the ground, shirts and ties hung in a complete confusion on the walls, on the wardrobe and the door and window's doorknobs, leftovers of the previous dinner (or was it the breakfast, God only knows) piled up on a makeshift desk, and magazines, ashtrays full of cigarettes butts and – this, Lambo honestly didn't remembered how and _when_ it got there – a black laced bra crowning the whole chaos.

To make it short, it was a bachelor's room.

"So, what was it again…" Sitting up, the young man said in a yawn. "What day is it today? Wednesday, yeah. So Giannini called yesterday, he said something like… Haa, what again?… Someone will come today… Someone from…"

At that moment, Lambo spaced out. Certainly some job to do, he thought even if he didn't exactly recall what. What a pain in the ass. It was getting more and more annoying to him, that is, that story with the mafia and all that jazz. It wasn't as though Lambo was fit for that kind of world anyway. Okay, stuff those days were much more peaceful than what he had seen years ago, but it still _was_ a drag! Like the day before, he was quietly eating pizza in a nearby restaurant, minding his own business and all, when some stupid kid just did the stupidest thing one could do in that place: a bloody stickup right in the middle of a goddamn mafia turf. Okay, he wasn't against giving a hand to calm the suicidal brat down, but at least the young man would have greatly appreciated if they had let him finish his dinner! And now, _this_.

"Ah, and I think that idiot actually stabbed me in the arm. A ruined $500 jacket, that's all I got that night." But back to his main problem, "so yesterday, Gianini called to tell me pick up someone… At the airport, yeah… And _who_ …"

Scratching lazily at the top of his head, staring at the ceiling while recalling the mechanic's words, memory slowly but surely came back to him. Specially one of a very scary man in a very scary company. "Holy shit!" He cursed before getting up as fast as an electrocuted cat and picking random clothes on the floor.

Unlike some very scary men in some very scary companies, cursing isn't something Lambo is used to do. No, not that Romeo, caricature of the Italian man's charm, Lambo of the Bovino family. Otherwise he would have never been that popular with the other gender. This is only to say how much the fear of a meeting with Xanxus of the Vongola family could make the young man deviate from his usual self.

No time for a long shower, no time for a breakfast nor for anything else. He had to be at the airport before the landing of Xanxus' jet. Yes, he had to be, but that didn't mean he was allowed to look like a tramp, too. Almost a quarter of an hour was efficiently spent on arranging outfits, hair and facial expression (because if there is something the beast can sense from miles, that's with no doubt the fear of its prey). After finally deciding on the smile he would show to the Overlord of Bloody Hell VR Co. and that day's attire (suit honestly wasn't meant for him; instead, Lambo chose a pair of black pants in the latest fashion, clear suede boots, a casual yet stylish tailor shirt, a thin leathered waistcoat and on top of everything a three-quarter coat) Lambo swiftly crossed his living-room. Not once giving a thought about the shambles that would have made Martha Stewart ask for mercy, the young man left his apartment at the third floor of a not-that-old, not-that-modern building in Little Italy, driving as fast as his Lancia could allow. Fortunately, there hadn't been too much congestion on his way to the airport. Twenty minutes later, he was at Newark praying God he didn't go to the wrong airport.

It was cold and drizzling – a real awful weather for a trip to New York. A wicked wind was blowing on the whole runway, always forcing Lambo to arrange his hair every five minutes.

"Oh, thanks Heaven!" He finally sighed when he caught the sight of a jet minted with VR Co.'s blazon – that very recognizable golden bullet topped by two crossed rifles and a winged clam adorned with golden fire and the name of the so to speak noble family's name – crossing through the greyish sky before landing carefully on a soaked landing-ground.

Somehow dusting his coat, Lambo waited for the engine's occupant and most important guest to get out, the most convincing smirk of his stretching his sensual lips. At that point, the air hostess got out, making place for the Lord.

However, when Lambo was expecting a tall and dark and ominous form to stand out, instead it was indeed a tall frame, but more slender, way brighter: silvery, nearly white long hair and ivory skin contrasting with the black European suit and thick coat, leather gloves and sunglasses the stranger was sporting on a face that looked like it would be way prettier without them. They came down to Lambo's level and, after putting the sunglasses down (striking deep grey eyes) greeted him in pure Sicilian italian.

To tell the truth, if the stranger hadn't started talking, Lambo would have never known whether he should have replied to the greeting with a _baisemain_ or a simple, virile handshaking. It had to be the handshaking.

Weird, Lambo thought. There was no one else but that guy in the jet. Did this mean that the matter Xanxus wanted to solve wasn't that significant to send more than only one man? Or another explanation that made the hair on Lambo's neck raise in anxiety: that this guy was the only one the boss trusted enough to handle the whole thing alone; in other words, he was Xanxus' Joker.

"So… Ahem, Squalo, that's it? Xanxus isn't coming?" Lambo said in a more moderate italian. It had been long since the last time he had talked in Sicilian; moreover the other man, in spite of the fact he was talking rather loud, was too fast to follow on some sentences.

"Voi, he isn't." Squalo answered quite irately, trading the dialect he had got more accustomed to for a basic one. "Our correspondent should have warned you guys. I'm replacing him for this case. The boss doesn't have to leave the head office for such trivia."

Lambo's features relaxed. "Is that so? That's too bad. So, how long are you going to stay here?"

"Of course, until we sort all this shit out." A deep wrinkle appeared between the silverette's eyebrows. "Now, where's our car? I don't want to lose my time here."

"Oh, it's there." The young man showed the silverette the way through the terminal. "Sorry, but they didn't allow my car on the runway. And your luggage?" Squalo simply showed a medium sized suit-case the steward had left beside him. The younger man gracefully offered to take care of it. Once inside the airport, all the checking went pretty fast. That was one of the good sides of being the P in VIP. Only crossing the vast building took a little time.

"So…" Lambo carried on as they were nearing the parking lots. "You really don't know how long the negotiations are gonna last." And when you're going to leave this city. To tell the truth, for Lambo, VR Co. was simply a synonym of problems.

"Voi…" Squalo eyed dangerously at him as they made a step outside. At that precise instant, a violent gust of wind went ruffling the long and silvery mane. Quite a stunning scene. The silver head brushed his locks away from his face. "Has Gianini ever briefed you on the reason why I'm here?"

"Yes, he has!..." It's just that I wasn't really listening to what he said, that's all. Lambo tried to smile his most tender smile to hide the awkwardness in his voice. "If I'm not wrong, it was something about a new contract… And making new allies here for VR Co. … isn't it?"

At the way Squalo was glaring at him – that kind of glare that was announcing impending doom on the one the long haired man was addressing – Lambo grasped that this time he wouldn't get away with his usual honeyed attitude. His only chance was the fact that the other man had spent six hours cloistered inside a plane and was far from being eager to dispute his point. Not yet. Squalo groaned and tsk-ed.

"Fuck it. At any rate, I'd have to explain that shit to you all over again once I get to my hotel."

Lambo froze. Now, they were outside the airport, ready to get in the younger man's car. The latter had the passenger door open for his guest "Hotel? You do have a reservation, don't you?"

"Huh?" Squalo paused. "I fucking told Gianini to handle that. And you fucking _are_ the one supposed to get that shit done."

"Well… This is… This wasn't…" Sweat was dripping on Lambo's forehead and hands, and in such a quantity that despite the cold, the young dandy was certainly about to suffer a severe dehydration. "Ha ha… Sorry?"

" 'Sorry' you say…" The silverette sneered viciously then, in a quick movement only a certain someone he had trained for months could have followed, seized the younger man's throat with one hand, hard enough to break his vertebras, swift enough not to draw people's attention on them. He thundered, "I'll give you a fucking reason to be sorry! 'Sorry' my ass! You stupid brat only had one fucking shit to do and you weren't even able to have it done? Are you kidding me, you stupid?"

"Okay, okay, I got it! Gah!" The younger man was choking. "I'm gonna make few calls… So let go of me!"

After a quick analyzing in his shark brain, Squalo complied. He'd rather have that idiot looking for a goddamn hotel room than having to go through all that shit by himself. Letting go of Lambo's neck, he watched long-sufferingly the younger male going away from him while dialing on his smartphone.

Just why the hell did they give him such a dork? Squalo cursed in his inner-self. What a day for the silverette, really. It was as though everything in the world was against him. Just like sooner, after that forced morning sex, Xanxus went back to his usual grumpy and unbearable state, complaining for everything he was doing from the breakfast to the clothes he had chosen for him from the raven's _own_ dressing-room. And when Xanxus wasn't criticizing each one of his choices, he just remained sinisterly quiet. Well, at first, it was restful, but in the end, that dark look the pig-headed bastard would cast him whatever he would say or do, it became honestly annoying. 'Why are you angry?' Squalo would ask. 'I'm not angry.' Xanxus would reply. 'Voi, you've been quiet for hours. You're pissed off.' 'I told you I'm not.' 'So why are you that damn quiet?' 'Fuck it, trash. Now I'm pissed!'

And so forth till Squalo left the mansion.

And that place also wasn't better: it was too cold, too rainy; nothing to do with Italy. Even thinking about the mild weather in Sicilia made the silverette want to throw away that stupid case and go back home, although that meant braving the raven's tantrum again.

Obviously, he couldn't.

Few meters away from him, the young Bovino still was talking on his phone. "Gotta put up with a kid again, huh." He muttered.

However, something was triggering the silver haired man's curiosity about that brat. His appearance wasn't that transcendent: he was young, tall, rather good-looking, but mainly sweetish; the kind of person Squalo couldn't get to like at the least. But what was the most intriguing about him (well, 'intriguing' was a very big word, let's say 'worthy of note') was that capacity he had to easily adjust himself to any kind of situation. One second earlier he had his neck ready to break in the silverette's fist, now he was already joking playfully on the phone with the receptionist of some hotel. Face and voice perfectly at ease. As if nothing ever happened at all.

When Lambo finally hang up after at least a dozen of unfruitful phone calls, the silverette was leaning on the door of the car, his coat laying over his folded arms. "So?"

"Mmh. It's no good." Lambo shrugged. "Everything is booked miles around." Which was fairly strange. "Come on! We're in the middle of March, it's one of the worst months in the year to visit the Big Apple! What's so funny to see here by that time-"

"Shut it! Where am I supposed to go now, voi?"

The younger man waved his hands in a vain attempt to keep the silverette quiet. "Alright, calm down. I didn't say I'll let you stay outside. You can stay at my home until a room gets vacant."

"Che. So that's _your_ fucking solution?" Squalo grimaced. Lambo smiled.

"This is all I can do for now."

Look, those easy-going manners. But there actually was nothing else he could do apart from that. Now wasn't the time to argue about the housing; there were more important affairs to see before. The silverette frowned yet got in the car.

Once the other man out of view, Lambo heaved a sigh. It was going to be a very long day, he pondered bitterly; this one, and the other ones after. He too got in before switching on the ignition. Next to him, Squalo was silent, staring at streets and buildings unknown to him, appearing then disappearing fast behind the window pane as the car was running faster and faster on the linear roads. They were both silent, and Lambo frankly preferred that silence to another fight. From time to time, he would get his eyes off of the street and instead look at the long haired man. Squalo being more or less engrossed with the rapid sightseeing, he didn't notice the younger man's sometimes insistent glances.

Of one thing, Lambo was sure about the silverette: that is the fact he was past beyond being simply 'pretty'. His grave expression on the soft features, his long shiny hair framing said features and his slim body couldn't go unnoticed to the former's eyes. For someone who wasn't used to see them, it was almost impossible to take his eyes off of the sight. But at some point, Lambo had to: someone was calling him on his phone. He picked up.

" _Hello? Hello_?" A high pitched voice said. " _Is that you, Lambo_?"

"Of course it's me." Lambo smiled in his inner-self thinking about who was on the line. "It's my number you've dialed, who else did you think would pick up?"

" _Aah,_ scusa, scusa _, Lambo."_ Gianini laughed _. "I just called to ask if everything is fine there_."

"Oh, you're talking about that." The younger man cast a quick glance at the silverette. "Maa, there have been few unexpected circumstances, but I guess we're doing fine."

" _Ha ha! I'm glad to hear that. When I called you last night I really thought you would mess things up. But it seems I was worrying for nothing_."

The corner of the young man's lips tickled nervously. "Yeah… Really, for nothing."

" _That's nice. Oh, and how is our guest? A charming person, isn't he? I'm sure you'll get along very well_."

Oh I want to see that, Lambo pondered, then aloud, "Is that all, Because I'm driving, right now. I'm hanging up-"

" _Aah, wait, wait! There's a very important message for Mr. Squalo. Can you pass him the phone, please_?"

Once again heaving a sigh, Lambo handed the device to the long haired man. "Voooi, you fucking trash, you'd better have a goddamn excellent reason for not reserving my fucking hotel room-"

" _What the fuck are you talking about, scum_." Xanxus – it was indeed the raven's voice resounding from the receiver – Xanxus cut off what was about to become a very boring and very opprobrious ranting.

"Xanxus? What's wrong?" Squalo blinked. "You're still in Sicilia? Did something happen? Vooi, don't tell me it's about Asir's… No, don't tell me that idiot Leviathan wrecked the contract with the other German trash. I swear I'm not gonna deal with that fucking perv' Meier again. Even thinking about that fatso's face makes me want to throw up my lunch-"

" _You stupid trash, can't you fucking shut up for only a second? You've turned your fucking phone off. How many times do you think I tried to call you, scum?"_

Ah, that's right. Squalo totally forgot to turn it on at the landing. "Yeah, that's kind of my fault. It won't happen again-"

" _Better for you, shitty piece of scum. Now, listen_ …"

Squalo tensed, persuaded that if Xanxus was expressly making an effort to try to contact him, it _had_ to be because something terrible occurred at the head office. Apart from the almost inaudible and somewhat altered breath of the raven coming from the phone, everything suddenly became silent in the car. For about twenty seconds. "Voooi, boss! If you've got nothing to say, I'm fucking-"

" _I'm wishing you happy birthday, you bloody trash, so shut your fucking mouth_."

"Hah?"

"Excuse me?" Too late, it was Gianini again on the phone. "Voi, give me the boss back!"

" _I can't, he has rung off so_ -"

"Che. Useless trash. I hang up…"

" _Wait, wait, Mr. Squalo_!" Gianini was back again. " _Can you give me Lambo, please_?"

"For you." Lambo caught with remarkable dexterity the device the silverette just neglectfully tossed at him. "That stupid boss, always so selfish..."

"Yeah, Gianini?"

" _Haa, really, Xanxus is_ …" The mechanic started but, at that time, somehow remembered why he had called Lambo in the first place. " _Oh, it's you. Yes, I'm truly sorry for disturbing. I know it's not easy to manage anything related to Xanxus. But don't worry about Mr. Squalo, he's a very nice person when you get to know him more, trust me._ ("Ah, really?") _More importantly, don't forget to treat him kindly_ …"

"What's that?" Lambo chuckled. "I'm always kind with people."

" _Yeah… Or rather no, that's not what I meant… Ahem,_ " embarrassment was evident in Gianini's voice. When he resumed, he was careful on clearly choosing his words. " _What I wanted to say is… Don't bother Mr. Squalo with pointless things… That is, of course, you'll have to help him get his job done and all, but apart from that, please refrain your usual behaving!_ "

His usual behaving? What was that? "You know, Gianini, I'm kind of busy now and I don't have time for chitchatting, so if you could make it clearer…"

" _Oh, boy! What I mean is this: Mr. Squalo is Xanxus' lover, so no touching_!"

And then, the Lancia almost skidded.

TBC

* * *

 ** _Scusa_** : Excuse me


	23. Today could have been a better day

Howdy boys... i watched too many western movies lately...

I hope you didn't get tired w/ this fic yet, 'cause there still is a long LOOOONG way to go before teh end of this arc. Yes, this chapter is shorter than the previous one, but funy thing: as i was typing & typing & typing it, it got really really too long so i had to cut what i've written into two parts. This first part is stil a lot of bla blah bleeh but the main dish is for the next one, so next chap!

I really hope i won't disappoint you.

Enjoy! ^^

* * *

When Xanxus hang up, a strange feeling made itself known deep in his guts. It was the kind of feeling you have when you feel you did what you had to do, properly and all, but still there's something not quite right about it. Yes, Xanxus felt relieved, more or less embarrassed that a man like _him_ had to pass such an embarrassing phone call to such a moron... but mostly it was strange.

"Fuck." He grunted then brought his feet on top of his desk. It was the middle of afternoon and his office was way too bright for him. So bright it was giving the tanned man a headache – plus the hangover wasn't helping at all. Bitterly, Xanxus was thinking again about going back home and back to his bed and leaving all the stacks of work piled on his desk to some unknown trash.

In normal time, Squalo should have been in charge for all that shit, but for now Squalo wasn't there. Naturally, most of his work had been shared among other managers of VR Co., and what Xanxus could see on his desk was just the remaining share – actually the smallest and easiest parts (Squalo clearly made sure of this before leaving; only to say how much the boss gets pampered by his lover). But even this was too much for the raven.

He wanted to sleep. He was so damn sleepy.

A yawn, then the raven closed his eyes.

"So, Boss, what did he say?" A chiming voice suddenly asked in the light. "I'm sure Squ-chan was super happy you called him!"

"Fuck." Xanxus cursed again. He had almost forgotten about that dumbass Brazilian standing (no, rather horribly waddling and caracoling) before of his desk. The fashionable, colorful and oh so annoying scumbag was the one who had had that great idea of calling the silver haired scum in the first place. The reason why Xanxus followed his advice, it was between Xanxus and God only.

Lussuria was beaming behind his sunglasses. He walked to the raven's desk. "Come on, Boss. You can't tell me he's mad at you because that's simply im-po-ssi-ble!"

"Fucking scum. What do you know about him-"

"I _do_ know." The Brazilian man didn't wait for the boss to finish then, in a slow and elegant gesture, pressed his leather gloved fingers on the desk, his head the same level as Xanxus' (which was a rather remarkable prowess, since the colorful Brazilian perched on impressively high wedge booties). "Trust me, boss, I do. You see, small details like remembering his birthday, asking how he's doing… Details like those will show Squ-chan that you truly care about him. Relationship isn't something granted, you have to work over and over again in order to keep the… How should I call it… the 'magic'? of it?"

Xanxus burst out laughing. "Magic? Did you just say fucking magic? Goddamn scumbag, you're two inches from having your fucking face torn to pieces."

"S-sorry, boss!" Lussuria rapidly backed off. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood what I mean. Um… How to put it differently…" He folded his arms, a pensive air on his makeup plastered features. "Well, think about it. Wouldn't you be happy too if Squ-chan did the same things for you? Cooking your favorite meal on an ordinary day, listening to your worries even when he's busy or tired, or anything else… can you remember him doing that for you?"

Squalo, doing that? It's not as though he had never done that. Squalo cooking his favorite meal? Yes, it did happen. Listening to him? Yeah, maybe that, too. Xanxus wasn't the kind of guy who would blabber his worries to the first comer (more exactly, to no one at all). But he appreciated the fact that, from time to time, the silver haired trash and he would have a drink together. Only the two of them in Xanxus' dusky salon in the mansion. They could spend several hours sitting in the calm and warm room, with no need for any word to make the silence around them comfortable.

They needed no word of any kind.

Not sure how to react to the raven's persistent silence, Lussuria fidgeted on the spot. He asked, "Boss, are you alright?"

"Che. You still here?"

"Yes…" Lussuria chuckled. "Since you're the one who called me here. You wanted to talk about the licence didn't you?"

"Aa. That German scum..."

"Yes." Lussuria tapped rapidly on his tablet, the fluttering light from the screen rapidly reflected on the Brazilian's sunglasses. "Meier is already under total control. Squ-chan did a great job handling it the past weeks. They've been so threatened by the tax office about the seizing of the Sector C's that they've agreed on all terms of the contracts. By the way, I think there soon will be an opening for Chinese market. Yen Luo Corporation is already waiting for us to send someone. They said the family investors have too much power and they're waiting for us to unbalance the situation… Did you say something?"

Was Lussuria wearing sunglasses because of fashion only or because he had some eyes problem, Xanxus couldn't tell. What the raven knew, though, was that the scum had pretty good ears since he actually heard Xanxus' last mumbling.

"I just said…" The rest of the sentence died in a low grunt.

"Um. Boss? If you don't speak clearly, I won't get anything…"

Xanxus grimaced. Taking his feet off the desk, he reached for a bottle of whisky in a nearby minibar. Fuck next day's hangover. He had seen worse in his life. The first gulp of the burning Glenfiddich went to burn his throat, so swiftly it made the raven's vision blur in an instant. "I said he didn't fucking remember his shitty birthday. When he gets back here I'll fucking make sure that next time he _does_."

The tanned man helped himself with another glass. In his inner tantrum, he didn't notice Lussuria's lips stretching into a sympathetic yet sorry smile. "You know, boss." The Brazilian talked softly, almost with a motherly tone, with his eyes back on the screen. "You shouldn't blame Squ-chan for that."

This last remark made Xanxus' attention shift from his glass to the other male. He put both glass and bottle back on the table.

"Like I give a fuck."

…

'It's really been a long time…' Squalo thought, the minute they left Jersey City, as New York City was more and more unfolded to his tired eyes. How many years had it been since the last time he saw those buildings, crossed those busy streets and gaped at the constantly moving, roaring, tireless crowd? The silverette knew the smell of that place. As the Lancia was pacing rather slowly through Manhattan, he could recognize from meters away the heavy scent of the mass shifting in front of the eye-catching boutiques, the imposing skyscrapers, the never-ending honking, swearing, the music, the lights… Everything that could make one's nerves go crazy by only being there.

They were stuck in a traffic jam. Good thing Squalo planned everything before hand, days before that important meeting, because it seemed that he wouldn't get to see Vito Giordano before at least one hour. But it was alright. After all, the meeting had been scheduled for noon.

Was that apprehension he felt deep in his mind? Squalo wasn't sure himself. It wasn't because of the fact that this city had become somehow unfamiliar to him. As a matter of fact, due to his new job, the silver haired man had since long grown accustomed to travelling in totally unknown places. Or… was it rather the fact that those places were _not_ totally unknown to him? And even if they were, what's the difference? No matter what had happened before, he made sure to cut a dash between his past self, his past memories and his present. Now, his present and nothing else.

Heaving a deep sigh, the right hand man wrapped his coat tighter around his lean body (this month sure was colder than usual, and even with the heating of the car on, a Mediterranean person couldn't easily get used to it) then sank sluggishly in the passenger seat.

The radio was playing _Why can't we be friends_. The brat at the wheel was giving the impression he pretty liked the song… Or at least he knew the song enough to whistle and taping out in rhythm with it. Very annoying.

"Vooi, stop doing that." Squalo yelled while glaring at Lambo.

"Ah? Ah, sorry." The younger man turned the radio off. However, with the only source of sound gone, all that was left in the car was a long and awkward silence. "Ahem, so…" Lambo started, "You said we're heading to Giordano's private hotel… Does that mean VR Co. is envisaging coming to the States soon?"

"Not officially. But the Boss is seriously thinking about it."

Lambo laughed. "Really? 'Cause I actually can't imagine Xanxus being serious about anything at all… I mean, the last time I saw him, he was more the reckless and carefree type. Well, it happened years ago, but I hardly can figure an adult and responsible Xanxus," he laughed louder, "not after what I saw of the guy back then! Ha! Ha!" Lambo was practically having hysterics… for about ten second, but right after stopped dead in the track, sweat dropping on his forehead, as he recalled _who_ was sitting in the car with him. "No, that's not exactly what I meant, it's more like this... You know, stories from the past and all! Stuff like that doesn't count anymore, and I'm sure Xanxus- No, the Boss has changed a lot since then!-"

"Voi."

"Yes?... Yes?" The younger man looked carefully at the silverette. The latter was giving him back a clear and straight glance, grave but not angry at the least. It was intimidating, having those grey orbs anchored at his face like this.

"You," Squalo resumed, "you and Xanxus do know each other?"

"Huh? Ah, yes…more or less." The other male replied, attention now back to the traffic which was starting to get decongested. "We're from the same town in Sicilia. You know how it is in our 'family': every one knows every one, from the brother of your mother to the little cousin of the grandma of your nephew's wife. So it's like we've grown up together … Aa, but not exactly. I still was a kid when Xanxus was already in his teenage years. I'd say that I'm more acquainted with the people who were surrounding him, more than himself." The young man's lips cracked in a smile. "Though I'm not sure that you'd believe that a man like me, at the lowest step of the pyramid, would know somehow like the Boss, wouldn't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Came the long haired man's answer, as clear-cut as his eyes.

"It's just... People often don't believe that, so…."

"So what? If I tell you I believe you then I fucking believe you. Like I give a shit about what people think."

Saying this, Squalo turned his head to the window pane – which simply meant that the discussion was over.

Lambo couldn't find anything to say anymore. That Squalo guy really took him off balance too many times, and no matter how much he wanted to get along with that silver head, all the attempts he had made till now had been completely vain. Vain and humiliating. Of course, Lambo had already dated women with strong personality, high class ones, the type of women you just _don't_ get with catchphrases as lame as ' _You are the first thing I think of every morning, the last thing that stays on my mind every night_.' But one way or another, the young man could always find a way to get in their pants…

'Not like I wanted to get in that man's pants!' He thought with an abysmal fear, sweat dropping on his forehead becoming more and more disagreeable. 'I don't think he's an horrible person or anything… Look, I agree he's truly gorgeous, whether his face, or his hair. Even the body, if you squeeze a little, may be quite enjoyable… Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. What the hell am I thinking about? Gah! It's because of that stupid Gianini. If he hadn't told me _that_ , right now I…" wouldn't be envisaging the man sitting at my side as a possible good fuck.

"No. No, it can't be." Lambo finally whispered.

"What? What's that?" Squalo fumed after angrily hitting the door with his fist. "And what's wrong with you shithead, always squirming and mumbling shit since we got in the fucking car?"

"It's nothing! I was just talking to myself… Ah, there's Giordano's hotel."

They've finally left the more populous part of the town. Far behind them were the noisy and touristy Rockefeller center, Times Square and their endless flow of sightseers. The Lancia was now entering Carnegie Hill. The contrast between the two neighborhoods was almost shocking: when the former was mainly an immense bundle of colors and loudness, the latter was much more peaceful, a more under-control version of the city with its quiet cross-streets lined with beautiful apartment buildings. Hence, the sophisticated part of Manhattan. How this image wasn't corresponding to the nature of the man Squalo was about to meet, though.

That was also part of the past.

Vito Giordano's private hotel wasn't departing from the lot. It was an eye-catching, priceless 1875 town house, well-kept and all, with a striking view on the Park. It wasn't Giordano's main residence, just a pied-à-terre where the old man used to welcome his important guests, since the calm and discreet neighborhood surrounding the house made it perfect for holding professional meetings in a cozy environment, far from the indiscreet ears and oppressing atmosphere of the head office. Outside, a footman was already waiting for the car, eyeing carefully as they went out. Commercial smile stuck on his not-so-young not-so-old face, he welcomed both Vongolas with a humble bow, showing the way to the entrance of the hotel.

"Signore Giordano is looking forward to see you, Signore Squalo." He said.

"Yeah." A grimace stretched the silverette's features. "Though I'd have never thought that someday that old geezer would be happy to see me…"

Lambo innocently raised an eyebrow. "Mmh? Why?" He asked, but immediately bit his lower lip at the severe glare Squalo cast at him. _None of your business_ , that glare clearly meant. However in a fraction of second, the glare softened into a more polite and composed stare.

"A suitcase of mine should arrive here after half an hour or so." He said to the footman. "There are very important papers to show to Giordano inside, so as soon as it arrives here, take it to our meeting place."

Once more, the footman bowed in obedience.

Once they got in the hotel, a butler (a man obviously older than the footman) greeted them with the same kind of smile. "Signore is waiting for you in his office at the last floor. Will you be good enough to step this way? …"

"At any rate, Squalo," Lambo was now whispering in the silverette ear. The place looked too much dignified and impressive for the young man. He couldn't help but feel out of place in the luxurious hallway and the magnificent lobby they were walking in. Even alone in the old-fashioned elevator with only the silver haired man and the butler, the atmosphere still was oppressing. "At any rate, no one told me what you're exactly up to. I know you're going to make an important contract with this family (Lambo's voice dropped fifty decibels lower as he pronounced the word 'family'), but actually what are you going to do? You've left all your stuff in the car, haven't you? So what are you going to show to that old geezer? He's not the kind of man that would listen silently to you if you don't have something he truly wishes or anything…"

"Humph. Stupid brat. Do I look like a fucking amateur to you? That's why brats will always remain brats." Squalo grinned. Squalo's victory grin. A light chime. Then before them, the elevator opened up to another hallway. At the end of the corridor, the old butler pulled the leaves of a door open. Squalo just irreverently walked to the door, silvery hair gracefully trailing behind him. "Huh! Just sit there and look how adults settle their businesses."

TBC


	24. Today is doom and gloom

Kids, i'm tired. So very tired of rel life. When was the last time i published sth... one month ago? more? i'm truly Sorry for t hat! (_ _) College is killing me. Work is killing me. They try, & try, & i try not to let them do. But it's really tiring. Back then i used to antcipate every chapter. I 'd write teh whole story months in advance & only ch ange details when i published... now i can barely find time to write at all. not even bc i don't have time. it's worse: i do have time but when i'm finally released form work, i'm too tired to do an ything else. even wtching animes had become hard for me. if i hav elike 20 or 30mn to cool down, i sleep!

But in spite of everything i hope u guys will like this chapter. i've started writing it weeks & weeks ago and only totally finished it recently. PLease stay reassured there wont be any difficult storyline to understand or wut. This chap was merely to "set the decor" or sth. Next chapters, i'll be back with aaaaall teh drama i stored up for days now!

Please enjoy! ^^

* * *

'That's right. Now is my present. I just won't be able to face Xanxus if I don't settle all my shit by myself. ' Squalo pondered as he made a step into what, at first glance, looked like a gigantic greenhouse – nothing to do with an office like the raven's one. The whole place actually looked like a garden in summer: the sweet and fluttering scent of the flowers, the warmth of the sun filtering through the roof, and even the chirping of birds and the sound of a fountain running somewhere behind the massive flora.

Such a tasteful man, that Vito Giordano.

Turning right and left, the silverette finally spotted the form of a man sitting at a table, enjoying a black, steaming coffee while leafing through his newspaper. Even though the man had his back to him, Squalo immediately recognized him.

He smirked at the other man. "Voooi! Ol'man Giordano. Aren't you gonna welcome your guests properly-"

A _che_ escaped the long haired man lips: right under his chin was now glowing the blade of a sword, dangerously threatening to cut his trachea. Holding the sword was a man about his age with bobbed straight dark hair, amber eyes, and three other sheathed swords at his waist. "Won't you tell your fucking gorilla to put that down?" Squalo resumed without losing his calm – and in the same time, his rudeness. "Kids should know better than playing with those kinds of toys."

"Signore Giordano…" Genkishi said.

"It's alright. You can let him go." Vito ordered.

Squalo flinched at the old man's voice. Vito Giordano wasn't, strictly speaking, a man that one could describe as 'frightening". He was a 67 years old businessman, tall, with short hair slightly going gray, but in a very appealing way. The finest bespoke suit was concealing a body that hadn't totally lost all of its attractiveness yet: broad and still muscular shoulders leaving a wide shadow on the ground, hands that used to get broken by hard work now perfectly manicured, their grip firm on the back of the seat where Vito had been seated one minute ago.

The old man's face, on the other hand, couldn't catch on the appearance of youth and power of the rest of his person. The wide and strong-willed forehead was now a sea of wrinkles, the eyesockets hollowed out by years and years of worrying, making the nose and high cheekbones look strangely prominent and the jaws cruel, carnivorous. But in spite of everything, Vito Giordano's grey blue eyes were denoting an intelligence that wasn't common to every man.

Vito Giordano wasn't frightening, not in the strict sense of the word: for those who knew him personally, he was way scarier than that.

The young Vito must have been a real looker, back then, Lambo thought as he got in the garden.

At any rate, many rumors were circulating about Vito Giordano, each one more rocambolesque and unbelievable than the previous ones. A whole book wouldn't be enough to tell all of them, so we'll omit all the frivolous tales and confine ourselves to what Lambo knew about the man.

To tell the truth, no one in that part of the world was accurately au fait with how the old man had built his fortune. What most of people knew about him was his current position (at least, his position back then) as one of the most powerful men in New York, if not the most powerful. Anyway, Giordano didn't work like the 'big ones', that is to say, those who can walk in the light – those who can walk freely in the light without the constant fear of getting shot in the head by a sniper or stabbed to death by some resentful junkie.

When a twenty year-old Vito showed up from nowhere in Miami at the end of the 60s, no one would have bet a cent on that scrawny, sallow Calabrian boy that could barely speak English and whose possessions could be summed up to the clothes he had on his skin. However, if there was something the young Vito could be proud of, it was his inhuman self-control. Even driven against the wall, the young man still could easily find a way out of the crap he was in: killing one or two men meant nothing to him if he felt his life threatened. But when he found himself in that kind of situation, the young man never made any mistake of any sort. Vito sure was a witty boy. And quiet, too. Soon, his capacities were known by those who needed them the most. That's how, three years after young Vito Giordano arrived in town with only rags to cover his ass, that's how said young Vito officially entered the American branch of the N'drangheta.

It's hard now to imagine that dignified old man, too well dressed in his Armani suit, Ferragamo loafers at his feet, and Rolex watch at his wrist, hair perfectly combed and hands manicured – it's hard to imagine _that_ man running in the streets in ragged jeans and sneakers, hair a mess, shooting random passersby in a dark alleyway, just because some bosses told him to do so. Yet, it was the plain truth, and Giordano wasn't going to hide it or anything. If someone asked him, he would tell anything. Probably. No one ever dared to ask him about his past, even back then. Even for an organization like VR Co., it had been quite a drag to gather the information about Vito's past. All they could find was record of the man's life after he arrived in the States, nothing before. Was he running away from some crime he committed back in Italia? God only knows. Anyway, at the moment, there must already be limitation.

Back to the Calabrian man. His younger self.

Giordano did climb up the social ladder to get where he was now. Where he was, that is at the head of one of the biggest holdings of that godforsaken continent, SLW Ho., more or less the equivalent of VR Co. in the western hemisphere. At the end of the 80s and with the fall of their main support in the old continent, the 'group' where Vito used to work in had to undergo some activity reorientation. Killing in broad daylight had become inefficient, useless. It was high time to put the guns down and instead to pick up the computers and black ties. Quiet and skillful Vito Giordano got easily accustomed to his new job. In barely one year, he supplanted the old dinosaurs, vestiges of a past that didn't have its place in the new world anymore.

At first, Vito and his associates started with a humble debt collection agency. It didn't take time before their business evolved into a loan company that rapidly swallowed up the same small businesses miles around (they remained Mafia after all). It took a lot of work, a lot of sweat and blood and broken bones, but in the early 2000, when they decided to settle in Manhattan, SLW Ho. was finally a society acknowledged by its peers. At the time Squalo was reading the report about the holding's activities, SLW was already a little more than simply a finance company: building trade, law firms, and even modeling and food distribution, SLW had its hands everywhere. And at the top of everything was sitting enthroned Vito Giordano, now an old man, father of two sons and three daughters, and grandfather of eleven grandchildren.

So basically, this is how those big monsters were working: if you want to do some business in VR Co.'s territory, no matter what kind of sectors as long as it was comprised in the society's panel of activities, you have to pay your respect to VR Co.'s overlord. Same thing for SLW: you poke around in their place, you pay. In the end, it doesn't differ much from the streets. Knowing this, for Squalo, the rest was just about sweet-talking the old man to get what he (what his Boss) wanted. But now, there's a problem: Squalo was bad at sweet-talking.

After frowning wickedly at Genkishi, the silverette sat on the chair Giordano was presenting to him. The latter took a seat at the opposite side of the table. A maid was summoned to serve coffee for the new guest.

"I assume your lackeys have already told you a word about our boss' proposition. I'm not gonna waste my time in chit-chatting, old man. Your answer. _Si_ or _no_. Of course, I won't accept 'no' as an answer…"

Indeed, Squalo wasn't just bad at sweet-talking. He _sucked_ at it. Nevertheless, as a man who was hardened to youth's insolence, Giordano didn't take offence. After the maid filled up the old man's cup, he just smiled at the silverette, his grey blue orbs eyeing at him in an almost fatherly way.

"Your attitude truly didn't change at all, boy." Giordano sighed. "Oh, I shouldn't call you a boy anymore. Look what a stunning adult you've become… But how unfortunate said adult can't even say a simple 'good morning' to his benefactor."

The silverette gritted his teeth. "Benefactor my ass. I remember nothing I should owe you, old fucker."

"Watch your mouth." Genkishi threatened, his sword still glistening under his coat.

"Fuck off, you brainless hound." Squalo shouted, not once looking at the other swordsman. Then, to Vito, greyish eyes heavier than ever, "As I said. I'm not here for the fucking chit-chatting. And (Giordano tried to say something but was immediately cut by the silver haired man) _and_ I won't fucking accept a fucking _no_."

Vito Giordano sighed. "That's harsh words you come to say this early in the morning to an old man."

"Bwahaha! You, a mere old man? Vooi. You, the head of SLW Holding?" Squalo burst.

"But this is what I am now. An old man with his grandchildren, his old friends, and even arthritis – here, look at my hands. No matter what I might have done in the past, this is what I am now, and this is certainly the biggest achievement in my life. Not the money. Family." He poured himself another cup of tea. "You see, money can buy you many, many things you need. Well, you can buy beautiful cars, beautiful houses, women are enthralled by you… but at the end of the day, what you're really looking for is the warmth and the kindness of someone who will love you for who you are, the joyful cries of children running in the house, and why not, pets, too. You've never wished for that?"

Squalo grinned a dreadful grin at the old man. At that moment, in spite of everything people had told Lambo about the old Giordano, the young man sincerely couldn't say which one of those men was really the scariest. Just what in the world did the older Mafiosi do to Squalo for the latter to despise him that much, all Lambo could do was speculate about. To tell the truth, the possibilities were innumerable, but at _that_ point…

"I'd never believed you among all people would tell me that. Now, back to our main point," the silverette calmed down, back leaning on his chair and legs crossed under the table, "I'm not here for your lame jokes. The Boss wants to see VR Co. getting extended here in the States. And you're gonna let him do as he wishes, no fucking trickery, no shitty backstabbing, Giordano. Well, all the details are explained in the documents your lawyers must have received yesterday. I guess you've already had a look at it. As well as our 'compensation' for the endeavor."

"About that 'compensation', I think Mukuro is more suited to talk with you about it." Giordano cleared his throat. "I let this kid handle this kind of business now. You know, right now I'm… retired. It's new blood's time now. His, yours…" A pause. "And Xanxus'. I used to deal with his father, in the past. But never once did Timotheo talk about coming and competing with me on _my_ own territory."

Giordano's voice had raised, just a little, but it had been enough to send shivers down Lambo's spine.

"Easy, gramps'." Squalo's grin stretched into a cruel smirk. "You told it yourself. Now is time for new blood. Yours has nothing to do here anymore. Just a fucking waste of space. Maybe I should empty your veins to make a good example-"

The blade appeared again, this time one inch closer to the silver haired man's throat, when a knock suddenly resounded from the entrance. "Come in." Giordano spoke.

Footsteps were heard coming closer to where the four men were. It was an errand boy bringing a leathered suitcase to the silverette under the astonished eyes of the others.

"Voi, Bel. You're fucking late." Squalo frowned.

The blond boy just laughed his signature laugh. "Shishishi. Sorry if scientists still haven't found how to teleport people. Here." Bel said then threw the suitcase on the table. He took few steps backward.

"Vongola. What's the meaning of all this…" Genkishi glowered.

"The compensation, you blockhead. I couldn't possibly stroll around with this shit." Squalo answered. He turned the suitcase to Giordano and unlocked it. For a fraction of second, the older man's eyes brightened up, in the same way as a starving wolf who just found a lost lamb on its path. "How's it?"

"Tempting." Vito Giordano closed the suitcase. He eyed at Bel who was indifferently scratching his ear. "And you've been carrying this alone in this city?"

"Whether that scum played monopoly or went to water slide with it, it's none of your business."

"And you say this is the compensation?"

"Yeah. The first part, of course, if you're sensible enough."

It was Vito's turn to lean on his seat and stare imperturbably at Squalo. Just what kind of reasoning that man's brain was processing, it was impossible for an outsider to guess. Fortunately for Squalo, he was _anything_ but an outsider.

The silverette got up. "Anyway, make up your mind. I don't want you to die of a heart failure before I get your answer. We're leaving for now."

'Finally!' Lambo sighed in his inner self. He was already having pins and needles in his feet for staying up that long.

"Squalo," Vito called out to the silverette before they left the room, a rather sarcastic smirk on his face. "I know it's been a long time. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then. But in any case, be careful. I don't want you to get harmed by anything... or anyone during your stay here."

…

"Oooh. That was super theatrical, Consigliere Squalo." Bel exclaimed unconcernedly once they got outside Giordano's building. He was leaning on the Lancia and was talking to Squalo through the lowered window pane. There was a Vespa beside him, motor already started up, though the young man (much to the annoyance of Squalo) didn't look like he was about to leave at any time. The cold weather sure wasn't for him at all. And the fact that it was starting to get windy was getting everything worse for the silver haired man. Sitting on the passenger seat, he had practically wrapped himself up in his coat, the heat of the car being totally sucked outside.

"Shut up, brat." The silverette spit at the blond then lit a cigarette. _Sniff_. Don't forget what I told to do once you get to see the Boss. There shouldn't be any problems with what we've talked before… Do you have it?"

"Yeaaaah." The young blond took a strange and long package from the seat of the Vespa. "It's been a drag to make it pass the security check at the airport. You travel in private jet, don't you? Why didn't you bring this with you?"

Squalo stared at the package for few seconds before replying. "Forgot it."

Bel was doubled up. "You should be thankful to the Prince. Ushishishi."

"Yeah, yeah whatever. _Sniff_." The silverette swiftly pulled the package inside the car.

"Er…" Lambo inquired nervously. "I'm sorry to disturb you but what's that?"

"Nothing important." Squalo and Bel replied in unison.

"Ah. Really...?"

"Shishishi. You mere connection peasant don't have to worry about it."

"That's right, scum. You're a just connection for us. Don't get too nosy about our business."

"Okay…"

"Just shut up and do what you're told to do."

"Stupid pawn."

"Useless shit."

"I got it, so please stop." The dark haired man waved his hands in surrender.

"Voooi. How long do you plan on standing there? It's fucking cold, damn it!" The longhaired man pushed Bel away and raised the window pane. "And don't you fucking mess up everything like you always do!"

"Unfair! This time I did everything right!" Bel complained while sticking his face on the pane. Wait. Was that drool? Was that idiot really _licking_ Lambo's Lancia Stratos's pane?

"And you trash (Lambo) fucking start this fucking car up! I don't want to freeze to death in this fucking place!"

The dark haired man sighed and obeyed. "Aye, aye. Bye the way, it's past noon. Maybe we should have lunch? I know a good restaurant."

"Do what you want."

If Lambo asked, that was because, at that moment, Squalo looked like the man needed a long, very long break. Was he already that tired when he got out of the jet? Maybe he just didn't notice it. While driving, Lambo wondered when the last time the silverette actually got holidays was. If he had any at all, in view of VR Co.'s hellish work hours – hours that could easily stretch into days, weeks or months. And the current deal didn't look like it would be a piece of cake either.

'I just hope he won't have a nervous breakdown before the contract is signed…' Lambo pondered.

As a matter of fact, the young man's fears weren't totally unjustified. All of a sudden, the silverette looked very tired and sleep-deprived, and his cold didn't seem like it would settle any soon. And that was precisely because of that that Squalo's screams of horror truly surprised him when they got in the young man's living room, as if he didn't think the man still would be able to yell that loud in his state.

TBC


	25. Today we will have blood

Hisashii~ I hope u haven't forgotten abt me yet. For those who have always been supporting me for this story, or even on tumblr, on facebook, anywhere, arigatou gozaimasu~ (_O_) i love you all!

* * *

Squalo yelled. He yelled so loud Lambo really thought his voice would break from all the yelling. Lambo also thought he would bite his tongue from all the swearing...

Seriously, what was so horrible anyway? It was just some clothes scattered on the floor ("In all the fucking rooms!") … one or two dishes in the sink of the kitchen ("The water is overflowing, goddamn it!")…And some corners that needed to be dusted! That was _all_!

"Are you kidding me?" Squalo grimaced as he threw his suitcase and sword on the living-room's couch – or what looked like a couch: the poor piece of furniture was half hidden under stacks and stacks of magazines and newspapers and was so stained on some places that it looked more like it was about to cry out loud and jump out of the window, if it could. "Are you fucking kidding me? Vooi, stupid brat! Do you never call a house cleaner here? I'm not staying a single day in this shitty mess!"

"Well, look. It's not that horrible." Lambo protested as he tried to avoid the silverette's outraged glare. He took a step in the living-room and pretended to pick one stack of magazines off of the couch, making a place for Squalo to sit on. "I'll just make a bit of cleaning and I swear after one hour you won't have any matter to complain about!"

Superbi Squalo didn't seem that convinced. He just stood on the doorstep, eyes glancing rapidly at the younger man's apartment with a disgusted air as if to say, 'what in the world did I do to deserve this shit'. Sometimes a wrinkle would appear on the bridge of his nose, as though he just smelt a dead rat smell. Lambo, however, dared to continue, "It's a good deal, isn't it? I told you there are no hotel rooms available at the moment… At least not until Easter is over. And I'm sure you don't want to be left in a crowd of drunkards during St Patrick's Day… or entering by mistake a club where the _Night_ is held (Squalo started when he heard that name). So what about staying here?"

The young man was aware he was playing for high stakes. Anyhow he decided to keep his best poker face as Squalo's was turning more and more unconfident. At the moment a sigh of surrender went past the silverette's lips, Lambo knew he had won. He crossed his legs, a drop of sweat going down his forehead. "So?"

"I get it…" The long haired man was grumbling. Surprisingly, the annoyed, capitulating face of the older man could look strangely charming. Almost cute. Shrugging, Lambo grinned.

"I can't hear you. What did you say?"

"I _get_ it." Squalo said louder and frowned. "I'll stay here. Now get the fuck up!"

"Ah? Why?"

"I told you I'm not gonna fucking live in that shitty mess. So get up. And get _out_."

"Ah?"

 _Bam_. Too late. Before Lambo could do anything, he was kicked out, locked out of his own house.

…

It wasn't funny. Not at all. As a matter of fact, it was even more than mind-numbing. All they're doing is talking, talking, talking, those useless, noisy herbivores. Even the mere fact of watching their very lips moving before his bored eyes was enough to stir yawning after yawning from Hibari Kyoya.

"Kyoya-kun. Why do I get the feeling that you're not listening to even a single word of what I said?" A young man with long, dark blue hair tied up at the back, asked. It was easy to guess at his strict appearance – black jacket, white shirt, black necktie and black trousers, the whole lot coupled with a leather briefcase that was giving off a vibe of class and importance – that the man looked exactly like the stereotype lawyer.

This, nonetheless, wasn't something that could make Kyoya feel insecure. Far from it. Since his early childhood, because of his family's special "position", the heir of the Hibari clan had always been surrounded by people of all sorts: lawyers, businessmen, politicians, tabloids journalists … and sometimes, by coroners, judges, CIA agents or leaders of yakuza family. It all depended on the circumstances, actually. Still, until now, Kyoya had always been a silent watcher. A kid whose role was limited to listening and learning from his elders' advices. If some nameless "stranger" were to be shot dead right in front of him, the police wouldn't ever consider him as an exploitable witness. That was the life of the young lord: free room, board and laundry… Till now. More precisely, until his recent graduation from college.

No, the President of the Student council was nowhere to be found. Hibari Kyoya could now be referred to as the 7th kumicho of the Katou-gumi, the Japanese branch of the Yue Yang Group whose Boss was also Kyoya's second and older cousin, Fon. Conventionally, the Katou-gumi's headquarters were supposed to be located in Tokyo where most of the clan's activities were "run", but Hibari being Hibari, he insisted on keeping his place in Namimori and let his lieutenants manage the business in town.

Anyway, anyone would agree that there was no place on Earth that suited the young Boss more than the huge and traditional mansion that had been the house of the Hibari family since the very Edo period until today. And the young Master in his dark kinagashi, quietly sitting on the tatami floor while sipping a cup of green tea, eyelids closed and face akin to one of a feudal lord, he sure looked absolutely befitting that strange, yet addictive atmosphere, the reassuring murmur of the trees around the mansion from time to time interrupted by the sound of the water pouring in a nearby tsukubai, or the scraping of hurried feet on the stone paths.

Actually, the one who was totally out of place was the lawyer.

"Hey, are you listening?" Mukuro asked again.

"I am." Kyoya slightly scowled at the other male's insistent voice. Rokudo Mukuro really was his pet peeve. Sharp and obsidian irises raised on the long haired man. "Who's that Vito herbi-"

"Ahem." Kusakabe cut. "What Kyo-san wanted to ask is, what the clan is gaining by agreeing on that deal."

"Everything." Mukuro replied then shifted painfully on his zabuton – he wasn't used sitting for too long in that position and his legs were starting to grow numb. "As you may already know, the Giordano family and the Katou-gumi are, since long, in very good terms when it comes to business matters. What our Boss is trying to do is to create a stronger alliance between us, an alliance from which both of our groups would derive important profits. Even for Yue Yang…"

"That's the point." Kusakabe retorted. "As their twin branch, we can't afford to decide on something that important without a meeting with their head boss."

Mukuro smirked (with effort) then shifted again. "Yes, I'm aware of that. And I'm about to go meet Mr. Fon about that matter soon. But since the Katou-gumi is the main interest in this deal, I thought it was more appropriate to see Kyoya-kun first…" He said, then paused, awaiting a change in the dark haired man's reaction. No, there was nothing. Kyoya was as indifferent as usual. Finally, Mukuro got up. "Well then, I'm looking forward for your reply. In the meantime… oww… You have my number, Kyoya-kun? So if you've made up your mind, will you call me?"

"Whatever." Hibari waved his hand in disdain.

Mukuro left the mansion. Two minutes later, everything was back to its normal, calm atmosphere… but it _did_ only last two minutes, because as soon as the thought of having a warm bath crossed Kyoya's mind, an underling slid the fusuma open, bringing with him the young Master's ringing cell phone.

'What is that _again_?' The young man ruminated angrily. That was a rhetorical question, truly, as he _knew_ what idiot would call him for no valid reason in the middle of the day. " _What_?" He almost yelled in the phone.

" _Ouch. You don't have to shout that loud. I'm not deaf, you know_." A playful voiced answered. " _By_ _the way, are you free now?_ "

"I'm not. And stop calling me whenever you feel like it. I'll bite you to death."

 _"_ _But you never tell me when I can see you. It's quite unfair. I gave you my number, didn't I? If you don't want me to call you, why don't you call me instead?"_

"I'm _not_ calling an herbivore and least of all _you_. You can go rot in some dark place for all I care."

" _In some dark place, huh… That can't be possible now, I think_." What was that? It seemed like the herbivore's voice was very close, all of a sudden… " _That's because_ I'm already here."

A pat on Kyoya's back. Just like in a horror movie. His obsidian eyes wide open, slowly turning into a kingdom of irritation: Dino Cavallone was in his house, waiting for him to turn back and face reality. If it was possible, Kyoya would have liked to kick that idiotic blond's ass out of his territory. After all, here, he was the Master and he had got the power of life and death in that place.

On the other hand, the idiotic blond was, technically, his oblige. And if there was something the young lord hated more than the other man, that was certainly being indebt to anyone, a fortiori to said idiotic blond. How the hell did the proud Boss get into such a shameful situation, it is a taboo question in the Hibari mansion. So for now, let's just say that, for some time, Kyoya and Dino are the best friends ever. Just for now.

"…So?" Dino asked for the nth time. Now they were far from the mansion, far from its calm and solitude. A diametrically different décor that consisted into a confined and crowded space (Kyoya's worst nightmare, indeed), with people ("annoying herbivores") coming and going with tray meals of all sorts, ranging from salads to ice creams and hamburgers ("Your favorite, isn't it?" – "…")

"So what?" The dark haired youth said between two mouthfuls of his Big M*c. He was eyeing suspiciously at Dino who, apart from his face being entirely hidden behind a thick winter cap, black sunglasses, scarves and parka, looked more or less normal in the crowd eating his salad ("My agent will make a scene if I take anything else").

"I said, if you don't have any plan for this week end, why don't you go with me to a party?" A grimace, amusingly hideous, was Kyoya's answer. "Aaah, come on, Kyoya!" Dino pleaded, "There's no one I can bring with me, and it's a dinner dance! I'd look too pathetic if I go there alone!"

"Just hire an escort girl."

"That would be even more pathetic! I'll die of shame!"

"Then die."

"Kyoya don't be so mean! There will be food…"

Hibari's eyebrows twisted in a questioning way. Did that guy really think he could buy _him_ with food? "I agreed on tagging along with you for few days. This doesn't include crowding in boring parties with the likes of yours."

Cavallone sighed. He leant back in his chair and remained still for few seconds. Kyoya wished he would stay that way till the end of their stupid 'date'… But it seemed like the man had other projects. "So… What about this." Dino was back again. "You come to the party. With me. And we'll be even. I won't call you anymore. I won't annoy you at your house anymore."

Kyoya frowned, pondering over the blond's proposition as though a kid would deliberate about whether eating a burger too big for him. Or not. The temptation is strong, though. His lips parted open… "I'm in."

"Really?" Dino was beaming so much even his disguise wasn't enough to conceal his beaming. "Thank you! Thank you so much! You're saving me! Ah. By the way, is your passport still valid?"

"Huh?"

…

 _Hey, Mister, you got any 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'? – What you think? – You got any Dragonball GT?..._ And that shit (a moronic movie Xanxus couldn't remember its name) kept on like this for maybe one hour long. Well, actually, the flight took at most 30mn, but precisely 30mn after that stupid scene with the shoplifters, Xanxus somehow got engrossed into the movie. Family comedy too could be funny, sometimes. That's why he went out of the jet only once the movie over.

Thanks God, Rome wasn't as cold as the previous year. It was even kind of hot… well. For a month of March in Rome, at least. Why did he have to go there, really? It was all mundane stuff. The kind of stuff the raven truly hated. Anyone at work could have replaced him… but naaah. All those scums were all busy doing the other silver haired trash's job. That weirdo okama was… if he wasn't wrong… in Shanghai, negotiating with some guy (was he some kind of royalty or an oil tycoon again). Buttlicker Levi was freezing his balls off in Moscow because of some legal litigation. And the other ones were in some very fancy places: Seoul, Paris, London… but Xanxus knew from the horse's mouth that some lucky bastard got sent to fucking Bali.

Bali. With the beaches, the sea, the sun… the _sun_. The fucking sun. Maybe that was a place the shark would like to go to. Maybe. Not some gloomy and rainy and cold place like Rome (this is solely Xanxus' opinion, which has nothing to do with the author, who think that Rome is one of the most beautiful places in the world, independently of the city's weather). At any rate…

" _At any rate, it's not like you're going to stay there for the rest of your fucking life. Take it like a fucking man!"_ That was Squalo bawling at him through Sk*pe. On small and low resolution screen, he looked like a drenched rat. More than usual.

"Shut up. And why the hell are you wearing a fucking rag on your fucking head? Are you cosplaying Cinderella? Have some decency, damn it."

"Voooi! Shut the fuck up! And I'm _not_. There are some circumstances…"

"I didn't ask."

" _So why the fuck are you fucking bothering me_ -"

The screen went black. Fucking trash was certainly on his period. Or that was the legendary PMS thing the raven had heard about, long time ago. Well, fuck, it was already dark outside the limousine. And the Grand Hotel's entrance was already crammed full with important people, representatives of the world's high society. Pleasure for the eye. The raven was already wearing a black, sharp-looking suit Squalo had prepared for him days ago in anticipation of the evening party (it's not like the trash was choosing all his clothes, though. It wasn't as if the trash had organized all his clothes for the following days either), his jet black hair combed back like a real gentleman. Everything seemed okay. He stepped out and was heading to the hotel's entrance…

"Oh! Isn't that Xanxus!"

When some white haired blockhead with no will to live decided to call out at him.

Byakuran was waving at him from the hall. Xanxus would have loved to just ignore the male and keep on his way, if it wasn't for said male practically running after him in the crowd. Finally, grabbing the raven's arm, as though they were old acquaintances. "Aah! Xanxus. You didn't see me? I just called you, seconds ago… Oh, just forget it. You too have been invited? Thanks God! I won't feel lonely tonight."

"Stop babbling disgusting shit. Get the fuck off." Xanxus glared at him and wickedly pulled his arm back, in vain since the white haired man still was sticking at him like a leech. Still smiling, Byakuran took a quick glance at the people around him. "Mmh… So you're alone? Squalo isn't with you?"

Now, the tanned man wasn't glaring anymore. It was more like his ruby eyes (if they could) would cast beam of death at Byakuran, erasing the clinging white leech's existence from the surface of this bloody Earth. His fingers started itching as he remembered his guns were only few inches away, well hidden beneath his jacket. But the stars really were against him that night. This time, it was a woman's turn to interrupt the upcoming carnage.

Dressed in a sheer lace gown with a plunging neckline and adorned in black feathers, and with her hair tied in a charming messy bun, Bianchi was, with no doubt, one of the most gorgeous women attending the party. Even the slightly angry air was giving more loveliness to her whole presence: she actually could pass off as some sort of duchess or queen, in the middle of the 19th century-like ballroom. "Would you stop acting like a kid and behave? People are watching." She said to Byakuran. "It's already tiresome to have to deal with all those old geezers-"

"Bianchi, you're alone?" Byakuyran was grinning.

"… I'm not." The young woman stated, eyebrows furrowing with irritation. "Unlike you, I can find a _cavalier_ whenever I need one-"

"Is it your brother?"

Bianchi grimaced. "That idiot was supposed to accompany me. And he _is_ here! I mean, we arrived together. But now I can't find that good-for-nothing Hayato anywhere…"

"Now, now."

"Since this _other_ good-for-nothing brother ("Ah? I am?") is here, you'd better not give me the slip."

"Aye aye."

"By the way, Xanxus." Bianchi resumed, a little more calmly. "I didn't see Squalo anywhere. Don't tell me you guys had a fight again."

"It looks like they had, dear sister."

Bianchi froze. "Don't you ever call me that way again."

"But I was just confirming what you say." The white leech tried to look wounded. "And I almost forgot. Dr. Shamal is looking for you. I recall he said something like, 'I'll be waiting for my scarlet dove in room n°- Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Dear sister, don't pinch the back of my hand. Look. It's all swollen up now. I hope Dr. Shamal can give me some good medicine for this- Ouuch."

They kept fighting throughout the whole party. Xanxus kept on drinking throughout the whole party. Even if he wanted to move away from that dysfunctional family, they would just follow him, again and again. A ridiculously pitiful trio. Two hours later, the raven was completely stoned, unable to tell left from right, and even less to appreciate the wonderful and fairylike décor of the Hotel's _Salone delle feste_. And the idiot brother and sister still were arguing like kids in kindergarten.

'Is that hell? I must be dead and this must be hell.' Xanxus thought. But if he was dead, why wasn't the silver haired idiot with him? At some point, he started tugging hard at Byakuran's hair, mistaking it for Squalo's. But it was different. It was shorter, and the voice of its owner wasn't as annoying as Squalo's voice.

"How rude." A voice Xanxus never heard before said out of nowhere, standing out in the noisy murmur of the attendance. Or was the voice coming from before him, he couldn't say anymore. "This is supposed to be a high society gathering. A minimum of behaving would be welcome from any of us."

"Aah?" With a last fragment of sobriety, Xanxus frowned viciously then, looking at the newcomer, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Waait!..." A blond head yelled while running toward the small group. When he reached the others, Dino was panting as if he had run a 10km marathon. "Wait! Alessio…. ( _pant_ ) You haven't met him yet ( _pant_ )... Gaah! This man isn't-"

"Cavallone scum." Xanxus spat, not even casting a single glance at Dino Cavallone, attention (or what was left of his attention) entirely focused on that tall and bold man who just appeared in front of him. By eye, the man was as tall as Xanxus, and probably must also be about his age. So what was the main difference between them? Well, probably the fact that the stranger was sober. "You know that asshole?"

"Yeah…" The blond breathed deeply. "This is Don Giordano's eldest son. Alessio Giordano. Alessio, this is Xanxus Vongola. If I'm not mistaken, your father and he are currently discussing about some important contract in the States?"

"I'm not." Xanxus hissed.

"Of course." Alessio spoke with a confident tone. "I was told that the man in charge of the negotiation is currently in NY City. This man can at least hire conscientious employees, even being what he is."

"Uhh? I'm asking you, you little piece of junk." The raven said, low and slowly. Deadly slowly. The crowd suddenly silenced around them. " _What_ exactly am I ?"

"Xanxus, please," Dino tried to stop him, lightly pushing him backward. "You're ruining the party."

"Shut it, you trash. I'm asking this fucking piece of junk here."

"I'll tell you, Vongola." Alessio replied with a smirk that could have meant 'Go to Hell, Xanxus'.

"Alessio…"

"For me, you're no more than a mad dog. A mere go-getter bastard with no shame. You would have been nothing without Timoteo' help. Even now all you can do is dirtying such a respectable man's name!"

This had gone too far. Dino's legs were trembling, and Bianchi and Byakuran shared a quick look as Xanxus, with a sinister air, was heading toward the man who just publically put him down. His step was heavy, an ominous sound accompanying it like the prelude of a disaster. Someone (certainly Dino) was trying to block his way. How useless. His right hand had disappeared beneath his jacket.

And as that movie title said, 'There will be blood'.

TBC


	26. Today is a regular day for Xanxus

So FF says its been abt 3 months i have published nothing for this fanfiction

Im truly sorry. But i think evveryone is already tired fo hearing me apologizing then doing the same thing again & again & again

...

...

please forgive me! TOT

* * *

 **In the previous chapters:**

 **Squalo is now working for Xanxus. But a new mission sends him to NYC where the late reunion with a strange man is raising questions about Squalo's past...?**

* * *

His head fucking hurt. His throat was sore. His legs were numb and he couldn't remember which century it was. Nor where he left his shoes.

"Fuck…" Somehow, Xanxus' brain could tell he was lying on a bed. His hands groped about in the dark (because the raven was pretty sure he was fucking blind now), only to meet – in the middle of all the sheets and bottles – an arm, then a chest, then a neck and a head connected to said neck.

'Holy fuck, don't tell me it's some shit like a half body bathed in blood I brought here last night' was what he wanted to say, though only a low groan went past his lips.

"Oh, seems like he's trying to wake up." A voice was chiming somewhere in the darkness.

"Finally!" Another voice said. "I'm tired of babysitting him. Seriously, I just can't understand how Squalo can take care of such a baby. Did you see the mess he did in the bathroom?"

What the fuck was that? Who the fuck was so fucking annoying so fucking early in the morning? And what the fuck happened for him to be that wasted? Let's start again, from the beginning, from that stupid party he initially should have never attended. Well, at first everything wasn't that bad. The booze was good and the music was trash, like every time in that kind of gathering. Two idiots were following him, he kind of remembered. A man and a woman. Then another idiot appeared. But this other idiot, he knew him too, so it was sort of okay. But after him came a fourth idiot that looked like the asshole of the year. The scumbag looked like some crap God took then laid another layer of crap on. Well, a shitty crap.

He remembered he (Xanxus) was talking (or arguing, he couldn't tell the difference anymore) to that shitty crap. They called each other names, that's true, but Xanxus was totally _sure_ it was the crappy shit (wait, no, the shitty crap) who started the fight. The raven's pride was offended, wasn't it? And he was in his full right to protect himself, wasn't he? And Xanxus never left his house without his guns… Or so he thought. That damn useless mongrel forgot to add them to his clothes! Ah, wait. That's true. Squalo was off to the States, so basically, he was the mongrel who forgot the fucking guns? Bullshit.

The more he dwelled on his thoughts, the more the images were growing clearer in Xanxus' mind. The crappy scumbag was mocking him. And the other idiots were telling him to forget it. Like hell. If he, Xanxus Vongola, couldn't teach a lesson from time to time to some lifeless trash, where was the world going? And the scumbag was laughing, and looking away, his guard down. That was his chance. And the hammer-like punch he hurled to his offender was something the scumbag was totally asking for! Ha! It sure made the worthless insect whirl meters away from him. However, the tanned man hadn't expected him to get up right after. Weird. Normally, no one would be back up so fast after such a blow. Or was he just too drunk and didn't have a very clear notion of time anymore, it was all the fucking same. In any case, the scumbag was up and fuming and ready to riposte. But as he ran to Xanxus, he tripped on something that looked like a foot. The scumbag went down like a brick in front of the raven, who laughed. Just before throwing up on the scumbag's face.

"Dear sister, he won't let go of my arm, and he reeks of puke. That's stomach-turning."

"Stop complaining! And I already told you not to call me that!"

"'That', what? Sister? But you _are_ my sister. Until proven otherwise."

Oh, shut up! Shut up! Shut. Up! Couldn't they let an honest man sleep it off in peace, good Lord? Xanxus grunted again then turned over. His eyes cracked open. Just a little. And he muffled another profanity as Rome's afternoon sun went to burn his drunkard's pupils. "Fffuck…"

And just like a man nearly drowned in the sea who tries to hold tight to any kind of lifebuoy that's within reach, Xanxus clung harder to the body lying next to him, still cursing under his breath. "Fucking shark trash, go fucking close the curtains…"

"Yo-oh, Xanxus!" Byakuran greeted him, waving a friendly hand at the other male who was clutching hard at his arm.

Xanxus froze. His eyes were now wide open. His jaw had dropped by a kilometer.

And this time, he threw up on the white haired man's face.

…

"Just what in the world was on your mind?" Throwing a barely read newspaper, half-crumpled in a rare yet violent fit of anger, Vito Giordano started stomping around in his office. In the middle of the room, Alessio Giordano was looking at him, still, fists clenched. There were bruises on his face, his lower lip was painfully cracked but the younger Giordano didn't look like it affected him in any way.

It wasn't the same office as where we brought you the first time you met the old and dignified man – that warm and cozy greenhouse-office in Carnegie Hill. Located in the Downtown part of the island, it was the nerve center of the entire Holding. Did they have to acquire some business at the other side of the planet then have it crushed down to set up their own? Was there a leader in some country they needed to "support" in order to get new markets for one of their subsidiaries? Or how much should they pay some "official partners" to get anything ranging from an environmental permit to a lobbying in any of the sectors the Holding had already a premium on? All of SLW's decisions were taken there, in that impressive, bright and modern style room.

At first glance, everything in that place or more or less similar to what you usually see in a CEO office room. But when you look more closely, you can see here and there traces of the recent presence of children: plush toys and toy cars forgotten near Vito's desk, fresh pasta's stains on the otherwise immaculate couch, color pencils and papers covered with doodling in a corner of the room, and three or four small plasticine figures, slightly grotesque, enthroned atop the last contract Vito's lawyers had brought him. Because, this room might be the skull of SLW Ho., but from 12 till 2p.m from every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, it also served as a daycare for three of the old man's youngest grandchildren.

And it was precisely during grandpa Vito's childcare time that he saw the appalling news, printed in bold at the first page of the Post. And there, amongst all the celebrities' gossips, he could read 'Billionaire heirs arrested at jet set gathering'. At first, Giordano almost didn't notice the article… until he saw the very face of his first son which was blossoming with recent bruises, garments torn and hair messed up. Vito couldn't believe his eyes. And it all happened the previous day! "Honestly, Alessio," Vito resumed, "I myself don't know what to think about this."

"Father, I'm…" Vito raised a hand, making Alessio hush right on the spot. The son looked down. "For this, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"You'd better _not_ make it happen again. Did you see how Nicky and Isa were looking at you when they left? A freak show!" Vito Giordano glowered at him. Despite the old man's habitual bonhomie, a simple glare from him had been enough to make the hair on the young man's neck rise in fear. "Alessio. Alessio, my son. Just what in the world was on your mind? Were you drunk? Or drugged?"

"I wasn't!"

"So you'll have to explain me this shit." Vito's voice raised. He wasn't walking anymore and had settled to face Alessio right in front of him, his arms crossed and his forehead lowered so that he had to slightly raise his eyes toward his oldest son. For a fraction of second, Alessio felt something akin to a murderous aura from his father, but it quickly disappeared as the old man tiredly rubbed his eyes before heaving a deep sigh. "For Lord's sake, son. I've never taught you to go and pick fight with random people like a barbarian-"

"It wasn't a random person! And that man was the one who started it in the beginning!"

"Are you even listening to what you say? You sound like a fourth grader!"

Alessio bit the inside of his mouth. That was utterly true. He was the eldest son, and on top of everything the future head of one of the biggest industrial empires of the world. He couldn't allow himself to act like some sort of foolish tumbler in front of the Holding's business partners! Yes, he was perfectly aware of all of this. And in spite of everything, he couldn't help but answer the Vongola's insult. That's the truth. Xanxus was the one at fault! All he did was to defend himself and his family's pride against that brute! However, this wasn't something he could say that easily to his father. 'Always take responsibility for your acts, no matter what happened', a motto instilled in the young man since his early years.

Just like an obedient child, Alessio bowed down to his father, "I'm truly sorry. This will _never_ happen again."

Finally, the older Giordano gave up. Definitely, this wasn't good for his blood pressure. He dismissed his son and was now alone in the office.

3:07 p.m. The cleaning service would be there soon. They were surely waiting outside for the argument between the father and son to be over. Weary, Vito looked around the room. What a mess those kids could make every time they would come at his office. But the old man liked that mess, and he loved his grandchildren, especially those three ones. At any rate, now was the time to clean the mess they left, both children's and adults' ones… Once more, Vito Giordano sighed and rubbed his eyes. The old man definitely was too old for those kinds of ruckus. Reading the Post wasn't even his idea but well and truly his youngest daughter's, youngest daughter who said it was a shame her old father knew nothing about what was happening outside Wall Street, about what was happening outside the Holding and the Holding's empire. If it weren't for her, Vito would have cared less about all the fuss around movie stars and political scandals. To think that his own son was on the cover of those damn tabloids!

Suddenly, Giordano flinched. Who was the man Alessio had a fight with again? At first, Vito had been too furious to read the whole article.

The old man hissed. "… Vongola. Xanxus."

That man. Again. Vito couldn't help but curse in his inner self as the image of the tanned man crossed his mind. Giordano and Vongola families never got along, even before Xanxus went into his family's business. Both companies' head offices might be on different continents, nevertheless frictions due to business matters had always existed between them. And in their world, business meant everything.

However, Vito's irritation wasn't entirely caused by those old grudges.

Jumping as though he just remembered something important, the old man started rummaging in his pockets looking for his phone. He finally found it, but not in his pockets: after she played with it, Isa forgot her grandpa's phone with her plush toys.

"Kids, really." Vito smiled as he picked the phone from the ground. He then began tapping quite slowly on the screen, opening his contacts lists, scrolling until he found the name he was looking for. But when he called the number, the only feedback he got was the endless beeping of the dial tone. "That's strange," he thought, "he must be busy now."

Vito hung up. He'd have his secretary call him back later.

…

"Vooi. I'm fucking tired of your shit, Xanxus."

Squalo was yelling ( _again_ ) in the other room. Actually, he wasn't yelling in the true sense of the word, but his voice was just so loud any sentence he would say would sound like a yell. But that's also how Lambo felt the sheer anger in the silverette's voice. Even an outsider like him knew better than cross the older man's path when he was that mad. It was even a divine intervention for Lambo that they could ultimately find a compromise about the long haired man's housing. To make it short, Lambo's master bedroom was officially made into Squalo's personal space. The room was big and independent enough from the other rooms of the flat to give the silverette some privacy. The Bovino then had to set up a new bed in was previously used as the dark haired boy's office/storeroom.

"No, _you_ fucking listen to me! And don't fucking lie to me. I'm no fucking child you can fucking lie to!"

Lambo sighed. This had been going on for the past two hours. And yet, earlier that morning, no one saw that blast of tempest coming. In point of fact, that day began pretty quietly, Squalo was checking his mails, going through all the reports he received from the other of VR Co's staff members. That's when he saw that stupid bulk email from Lussuria: 'They say boss is in jail somewhere in Rome. What do I do? Do I have to tell Squ-chan?' Apparently the long haired man wasn't supposed to receive the message.

Then began the tantrum. At first Squalo called Xanxus' number, only to be sent straight to the voicemail. He called almost everyone in VR Co, then tried to reach all the rest of the Vongola family there in Sicily before calling Xanxus one more time; and one wasn't truly sure whether all of their phones just ran out of battery all in the same time or the network at their place was just shit or they just did _not_ want to deal with the silverette, but when someone finally answered one of his many (oh so damn _many_ ) calls, it was past lunchtime and – what an irony – _he_ was the one whose phone actually kicked the bucket. Too much stress for such a tiny body.

Squalo was on the verge of breakdown – and he more than surely would have succumbed if Lambo's smartphone hadn't rung about ten minutes later. The caller was the same person who picked up the phone. It was a woman's voice. Lambo remembered it was a very sweet and delicate voice. She said it was Bianchi, that Xanxus was already off the hook so he (Squalo) didn't have anything to worry about anymore. Yes, Xanxus was with her at the moment. Yes, she would be pleased to put him on the phone.

So it was in the common living-room where the young Bovino settled on sinking a little more into the newly treated against stains couch while opening up his ears and paying attention to each word his new roommate was screaming (no, just _saying_ ) at the Vongola boss. Even though he could see nothing of the amazing discussion between the lovers, Squalo's words were just too vivid not to get a complete mental image of the scene. Thus this is how Lambo was picturing Squalo's call with Xanxus.

 _Squalo is walking in circles in the bedroom. He has that awfully annoyed expression on his face, the same one he had when they were at Giordano's place. He stops. Listens. He grimaces_. "Are you fucking kidding me? It was obviously your fucking fault!... Fuck it, Xanxus, don't make me believe the guy just slipped and fell on your fucking fist." _He's tapping his foot. Strangely, now, Lambo is imagining a jazz band playing on the background_. "And I… Voi, don't fucking tell me to shut up, you useless idiot of a boss! And I am not screaming… Do I fucking care if your fucking head hurt, damnit!" _He kicks a nearby armchair. A glass is breaking somewhere in the room_. "Do I give a flying fuck about your fucking hangover? Now, you listen to me!" _He stops, leans on the table_. "Yeah, so what if he insulted you? For who's sake do you think I'm in this shitty city right now? At this point I can say everything is screwed. Bravo, boss. Really." _He sneers_. "Vooi. Of course, I'm being sarcastic, you stupid. It's way worse than just screwed." _He makes big movements with his hand to emphasize his point, even though none can see him talking at the moment_. "This mission is _fucked up_. I could just leave everything and go back home. At this point, staying here is just a waste of time anyway…" _A long silence_. _He makes that annoyed gesture again. The one where he's vaguely brush his left ring finger on his forehead. The silverette somewhat calms down_. "No, no, wait. It's not like I'm really going to leave… Uh? Why would I do that, you say… I won't do that, that's all. I know that's a shitty setback but I'll find something…It'll only take a little longer than planned" _He spins on his feet then falls back in another armchair._ "Yes, I'm a fucking grown ass man. I can sort that shit out by myself. Don't you fucking lump me together with your trashy subordinates." _His voice lowers down, a bit. Maybe he's smiling_. "Yeah… Yeah, that's right. Che. I'll find a way or another. That's my job after all. Yeah, I get it… Ah, wait, Xanxus!" _Pause_. "What, you ask… Voi, just take care of yourself."

It startled Lambo when Squalo burst in the living room. He instinctively took his feet off of the couch and smiled awkwardly at a relatively grumpy Squalo. This, Lambo knew it best, wasn't the grumpy-because-of-work face, more like an I-wanna-see-my-lover kind of grumpy face.

"So? How did things go?" The young man asked. A grunt was his first answer.

"Xanxus is being bothersome as usual." Squalo sighed as he went to the kitchen's mini bar to pour himself a glass of Blanton's. After drinking the thick liquid in a single gulp, he violently put the glass back on the counter. "I hope the shit he did this time won't spoil everything I did until now."

"I see…" Lambo sympathized with him. "Uhm, by the way, _Mr_. Squalo…"

"What?"

He could do it. Lambo knew he could do it. Didn't Victor Hugo say something like, the future belongs to the brave? "That woman who answered your call…Bianchi." The young man ventured, "The one who was with Xanxus, do you know her?"

The silverette's eyebrow raised curiously. It looked like he didn't expect that question. "Yeah. If I'm not wrong, she's Xanxus' ex-fiancée."

"Wow, really?" Lambo rose from his seat. This is a turn of situation he didn't see coming. "That surprises me. And you… You're okay with her being with Xanxus now?"

"Well, yeah. I don't really mind." Squalo poured another glass of bourbon. And indeed, he didn't seem like he minded his lover's ex taking care of him miles away. What a weird couple dynamics, Lambo pondered. But didn't that hide something else?

"So… after their breakup-"

Squalo burst in laugh. "Voi, you couldn't really call that a 'breakup' in the first place."

"Oh. So, after… after they split, did Bianchi get someone else?"

"Who knows. Why you ask?"

"Well, Mr. Squalo, I was just wandering if you could…"

"If I could _what_? You're fucking annoying. Go straight to the point, already."

Lambo tried to grin. "If you could introduce me to her?"

Squalo took another sip. "No way." And he was dead serious.

"Why? You said she's single now, so it's ok, isn't it?"

"Vooi! I never said that!"

"Come on! All you have to do is talking to her about me, just a little… At least give me her number… Ah, that's right. It's already here."

Lambo started searching methodically for Bianchi's number in his call history. Squalo sighed in surrender. "Che. Do as you want. But don't fucking come complain here afterwards."

"Yeah, yeah." Suddenly, Squalo's phone rang. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, it didn't stop ringing some time ago."

Squalo furrowed at his incompetent assistant, but seeing him already so busy planning his future and very improbable date with the young woman, he went to pick it up by himself from the coffee table. "Yeah?" He answered and furrowed a little more as he recognized the voice on the line.

" _Good afternoon_." Vito's voice resounded from the small device.

"Voi, why the fuck-" Squalo's expression darkened dreadfully. As fast as though he just got stung by a giant hornet, he left the room again not to let Lambo see his unease. This time, instead of just going to his bedroom, he left the flat to stay on the landing. How he did need a cigarette at the moment… And that flickering light was doing nothing but annoy the shit of him more. "Fuck. Forgot the packet in the living-room." He murmured. Just fuck it. One way or another he'd have to talk to that old geezer again, whether he liked it or not. "What? What do you want?"

" _Now, now_." Vito laughed. " _No need to be so upset. We've known each other since long, don't we?"_

"Yeah… that's why I'm upset."

" _You always have something funny to say,_ _huh?... But more seriously. Have you read the news? About my son_ …"

Squalo flinched. Here it comes. "Yeah."

" _You know, I don't want to get media and all that jazz mixed in that little fight of ours. You can understand that, can you?_ "

"Yeah…"

" _We're all adults here. A trivial fight like this one… We can deal with it by ourselves, can't we?_ "

"Yeah…"

" _And since you're in NY, we can directly have a talk, not to let this affair turn into an ugly scandal, can't we?_ "

"Yeah…"

" _So, it's all settled then! I'll be waiting for you at Ferdinando's. At 7. You do remember the old Ferdi, don't you?_ "

"Yeah… Huh? Wait! Don't fucking decide things by yourself!-"

But the old Giordano had already hung up, leaving the poor Squalo wondering if the world had just start going mad around him.

 **TBC**


End file.
